


Bloody Shangri-La

by dorcasdeadowes



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU, Abusive Parents, F/M, Minor Character Death, Muggle AU, Urine, Violence, Vomit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-31
Updated: 2016-01-31
Packaged: 2018-05-17 10:07:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 26
Words: 128,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5865118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dorcasdeadowes/pseuds/dorcasdeadowes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"The way she babbled on about the place made it seem like some sort of promise land, but James knew full well that is was nothing of the sort. Sowsworth was a wasteland that comprised of seven shops, a pub, and the incredibly bored shadows of lonely people. It was not bloody Shangri-la." AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. James Potter: Nice and Friendly

**Chapter One: James Potter: Nice and Friendly**

Like soldiers, the schoolchildren trudged through the corridors, exchanging lacklustre rumour and complaining about the overwhelming sunshine. They manoeuvred themselves in a sticky, uncomfortable manner due to an unfortunate combination of close walls and an abnormal amount of heat for an English summer.

The following months would be unbearable.

This hostile environment was brightened only by the odd burst of laughter.

"I am funny!" cried one giggling teenage girl upon entering the hall.

Her friends did not dispute this, but they did not exactly support it either. They merely took their places on the stiff wooden benches and fell silent, trying to ignore how the sweat glistening on the backs of their thighs fused their skin with the bench.

All the students ceased conversation as the doors closed behind them. The only sound that filled the hall was the rapid click of their headmistress' heels against the varnished pine floors.

Miss McGonagall was renowned for that sound, that clicking. The clicking that instilled fear into the hearts of even the most rebellious of her students, letting all who heard it know that Miss McGonagall was not a headmistress to be messed with.

Only when she reached the very front of the hall did the clicking stop.

She positioned herself next to a blackboard on which was written, "Farewell Class of '76."

"Blazers please," she ordered, in a tired voice; it had been a very long school year.

There was a low grumble of objection for it was far too hot to add extra layers.

"Might I add that you should have had them on before you entered the hall," said Miss McGonagall, drowning out all complaints. "Are you or are you not year 11 students?" A few students nodded but that was all the reply she received. "Well," she continued, unperturbed, "While you remain secondary school students I expect you to abide by the uniform rules. Those of you who return for sixth form in September will be able to frolic about in whatever you wish."

Sniggering followed this which she quickly silenced with a cry of, "Within reason!” Before she pressed on, “Now, as you know you will receive your O-level results in August"

It was then that a side door burst open and a very flustered receptionist, known by a few students by the name of Rosie, came into view.

Rosie made an attempt to hurry across the hall, hindered somewhat by her tight skirt and high heels. All eyes were on her as her footsteps filled the hall with a cacophony of uncoordinated clicks, drastically different from those of Miss McGonagall.

Upon reaching the headmistress, Rosie received a stern look. Smiling apologetically, the receptionist put her weight on the very tips of her toes so she was made a reasonable height and could thereby whisper in McGonagall's ear.

After approximately six seconds McGonagall's lips thinned and her eyes narrowed. She murmured a quick "thank you" to Rosie before turning to face to the students.

"You are dismissed," declared McGonagall.

Then she hurried out of the hall.

(Twenty Minutes Earlier)

Seven shops. He counted seven shops. Well, seven shops and a pub. Given that the last shop he had seen was over eight miles ago, he suspected that these seven shops were the only shops in the vicinity. Oh, and the pub of course. Did that make eight? It didn’t really matter. Overall, the car journey had not revealed any promising aspects of Sowsworth so far.

"It's very... quaint isn't it?" Ilene Potter stammered, her eyes flickering nervously between the road and her teenage son. "James?" He grunted. "It's pretty, don't you think?"

"Stunning," said James in a bored voice.

"Excellent."

Sighing, James turned to look out of the car window once more. Sowsworth _did_  appear to be very peaceful. Peaceful, though, had never particularly appealed to him as an adjective. He didn't trust peaceful.

As they turned down an incredibly narrow road, they were soon graced with the rather unimpressive sight of St. Albus' Secondary School. It was a very square building with an overwhelmingly large quantity of windows and faded paint.

Once her hands were no longer required on the wheel, Ilene took James' right hand in her left one and gave it a squeeze.

"Do you need me to go in with you?" she offered.

James shrugged, not really looking at her.

"If you like,” he said.

"I won't if you don't want me to,” she added quickly. “I know you don't want your old mum embarrassing you in front of all your new classmates."

It might have been true that Ilene Potter was older than most mothers. She had given birth at the miraculous age of forty-two and the following sixteen years of raising a rowdy young man had not exactly done wonders for her aging appearance. Yet none of this embarrassed James in the slightest.

"Come off it, mum," he said, flashing her a toothy grin of reassurance. “Come in if it’ll make you feel better.”

"No, don't worry about it. I'll wait here."

"Abandoning me early are you?" he teased.

Ilene flinched.

"James, please don't say that."

"It was a joke, Mum."

"Well, it's nothing to joke about. I don't want you to think I'm abandoning you."

She looked tired and this made James feel both guilty and frustrated.

"I know, I know. I'm a grown up now, why should you and dad hold back on your dream? Especially since you've been wanting to retire to France for such a long time," he recited, having heard this very reasoning countless times over the previous year.

A brief silence hovered in the humid air between them, broken only by the distant buzzing of insects.

"You better get going," she said after a while.

Nodding in agreement, James leaned over to give his mum a quick peck on the cheek before undoing his seatbelt and beginning to clamber out of the car.

He was just about to slam the door behind him when she cried out, "James!"

"Yes?" he inquired, sticking his head back in the car.

"Be friendly."

He frowned.

"I'm always friendly."

"You know what I mean, James," she said. "Be nice."

"Always, mum. James Potter: nice and friendly. That's what they all say."

She looked back at him with her tired, pleading eyes.

"I'll be nice, Mum," he reassured her. "I promise. I'll only be gone ten minutes anyway. I doubt I'll have much opportunity for not-niceness"

"Good luck!" she called after him, his head withdrawing from the car once more.

Ilene watched James stroll up to the front doors, exuding his usual confidence. She sighed to herself, knowing full well that ten minutes was more than enough time for her son to exhibit 'not-niceness.'

The reception area was the obvious place to wait, James knew this, yet his curiosity disagreed with this simple logic and so dictated that he wander towards the mass of students filing into the hall.

The interior of the building was no more impressive than the exterior. In fact, the only impressive quality he deemed the school to have was the astoundingly impressive amount of pine it had managed to incorporate into its decorating.

The student body seemed small to him, although James’ counting ability might've been somewhat compromised by the fact that it looked as though not a single girl had put on tights under their skirts this morning.

Summer was a marvellous time of year.

After a quick surveillance, his eyes settled on a gaggle of girls just a few inches away. Amongst them were some very nice legs, the longest of which belonged to a chatty blonde.

"I'm serious!" she cried. "He said he was really going to miss me when he left and that we should meet up for a drink some time!"

The other girls just laughed at this.

"Why is that so hard to believe?" the blonde inquired of her friends. "Because he's older? Because he's successful?"

"Because he was our Geography teacher?" said one another girl, sounding amused. James gave what he had intended to be a quick glance over to the owner of the voice, but his gaze lingered on her.

This girl had very dark red hair, a mercifully short skirt and a nice set of legs to go with it. Objectively, she was a pretty girl. But that wasn't what was captivating him. It was something in her stare. The way her eyes widened, her head tilted, and the corners of her mouth twitched as she looked at her friend. It was almost as if she was saying 'come on now, be serious' with her face alone.

There was a certain coolness about her that suddenly made him a little self-conscious.

He had grown a lot over the past year and his body had yet to fill out his new frame, thus leaving him looking rather gawky. His hair was a mess of black and a pair of glasses sat upon his long nose.

It wasn’t that he was unhappy with his looks or personality, but this girl had made him acutely aware of his overwhelming averageness.

This made his uncomfortable so he immersed himself in the girls’ conversation again.

"Yeah, Cas, it seems unlikely that Mr Barnes would ask you out for a drink," said a small girl with very thick, short, dark hair and a bored expression.

"Just because he's a teacher doesn't meant that he can't fancy me!" The blonde girl, whose name appeared to be 'Cas', replied, becoming indignant.

"Yeah, but Barnes always hated you."

"You never did your homework."

Cas huffed, "Yeah, well I think you're all just jealous!"

"Oh, no!" cried the redhead. "However did you guess?"

"Oh, shut up."

"Or what?" she asked innocently.

"Or I'll tell your mother on you."

"Oh, please don't!" she pleaded dramatically. "She might punish me for the entire summer!"

Cas narrowed her eyes, saying, "You think you're so funny."

James never heard whether or not the girl with the red hair went on to confirm her hilarity or to deny it because there was a tap on his shoulder.

When James turned to face the tapper the first thing he saw was empty space. Then, upon looking down a few inches, he saw a round-faced blonde woman who was incredibly short despite wearing heels higher than any he had seen before.

"Excuse me," she said, her voice sugary. "Are you James Potter?"

"I am," he replied.

"Come with me."

He did as he was told but gave one last look over his shoulder. The redheaded girl was gone.

"I'm Rosie, the receptionist," the blonde woman informed him.

James nodded, pretending to absorb this information.

"Fantastic,” he said dryly.

She led him down a narrow corridor to a door just past her desk ("that's my desk," she had said as they went passed, as though this might interest him. It didn't). On the door was a bronze plate which read "Miss McGonagall, Headmistress."

Rosie opened the door and nodded her head, indicating that he should enter.

"The headmistress is just holding the leaver's assembly, she'll be along in a minute," she explained.

And with that she closed the door behind her.

A quick scan of the office told him that this McGonagall was a fan of books, old volumes lining an entire wall. There was also an abundance of pine but he assumed that this was not down to the headmistress' personal taste but to that particular wood being the overall theme of the school's decor.

His eyes, after taking in the room, landed on a brown file that lay on the desk. He did not hesitate as he ventured towards the file and picked it up.

The symbol on the front was that of a lion, the logo of James’ previous school to be exact. This told him that the file was exactly what he had thought it to be: his school record.

Flicking through it he felt a vague sense of panic. He had never realised how many of his misdemeanours had been recorded. James couldn’t be certain, but he might have actually gulped when he came across a page that had been entirely circled in red ink.

"Oh, bugger," he murmured.

He acted quickly, without thinking through any possible consequences. Making his way over to the bin by the door, he pulled a purple lighter from his pocket and set the offending page alight.

Rosie was not particularly accustomed to seeing smoke emerge from Miss McGonagall's office and was therefore inexperienced at dealing with such a situation. After emitting a small shriek, she jumped out of her desk chair and hurried towards the hall, having decided it would be best to fetch the headmistress.

James swore loudly as the flame licked his thumb and abruptly dropped the paper he had been holding, leaving it to burn in the bin.

Giving the door a nervous glance, he sighed with relief, fully believing he was going to get away with it. Into the fire went another report regarding "violent" tendencies. He resented that. James had never viewed himself as particularly violent. He was perfectly in control of his emotions and was not one for fits of rage. He just got bored sometimes. Was it so wrong to relieve himself of boredom by... well, it wasn't important. Just as he decided to add to the fire a detailed account of why he had been banned from taking his O-Level German exam, the door opened.

"Shit!" he cried instinctively.

A stern looking woman, who James could only assume was Miss McGonagall, entered.

"Mr Potter, I assume. Might I ask why my bin is on fire?"  she asked.

"It was like this when I found it," he said quickly.

She looked disbelievingly between the boy and the bin before sighing deeply.

"Mr. Potter, you have been on school grounds for no more than ten minutes and you have already lied, cussed, and set something alight. We're not exactly off to the best start here, are we?"

James smirked and opened his mouth to retort, but before he could she snapped, "That was a rhetorical question."

Miss McGonagall gave the dying embers one last glance before sighing again.

"Very well," she said, sitting behind her desk and motioning for him to take the seat opposite.

She picked up his report. Upon noticing it to be open and in a far messier state than she had left it in, realisation dawned on her.

"Now, Mr Potter," she began in an exasperated tone. "I'd like you to show me what it was you used to start the fire."

He gave a sheepish grin before diving into his pocket and pulling out the purple cigarette lighter.

"I thought so," she said.

Due to the questioning look on his face, she felt she should elaborate, "You should note that we do not tolerate smoking here at St. Albus'."

"Oh, no," said James. "I don't smoke."

"If you don't smoke then why on earth do you carry a cigarette lighter?"

"To set things on fire," he explained with a shrug.

"Well, that's terribly comforting," she said dryly. "I would like to know what on earth possessed you to set your own files on fire."

"Well..."

"I suppose it never crossed your mind that I might have read your records extensively  _before_  admitting you to this school?" she put to him.

"Ah."

"Ah indeed, Potter," said McGonagall. "I assume there were certain documents in here which you were ashamed of?"

James gave a small nod.

"Which is understandable, given that you have a clear history of... well  _bullying_ , for want of a better word."

"Now, Miss," he grinned, "I don't know what would've given you that idea. I've always been terribly popular, never been bullied in my life."

"Which has obviously left you with a very healthy level of self-esteem, but we both know that's not exactly what I meant."

"It wasn't?"

"No."

"What exactly did you mean then, Miss?"

"What I meant was that you seem to have caused a lot of trouble for the other students at your previous school," she explained.

"You could say that."

His arrogant grin remained but anyone with any sense could see that this conversation had entered a rather uncomfortable area for him.

"Don't look so worried," she said. "Whatever you did at your old school, though taken into consideration, will not affect your time at St. Albus'."

"Really?"

"Well, of course if you were to continue the behaviour you demonstrated at your previous school then perhaps we might have to revisit these records." She shot him a meaningful look. "I don't expect to have to though. Are we clear, Mr. Potter?"

"Yes Miss," replied James.

"Good," she remarked, pushing aside the file. "Now, I understand you'll be staying with your Aunt?"

"Yes."

"I trust that she'll keep you in line."

James chuckled, "My Aunt Angie is a good cook, not the best guardian."

"How so?"

"Well," he began seriously, "I once spent a summer with her in Cornwall and five girls ended up pregnant."

While he cracked a smile at his own joke, McGonagall certainly did not.

"Potter, while your future classmates might appreciate your humour, the staff will not."

"Noted."

"I expect to see a drastic change in attitude when you return to us in September."

"What attitude would you prefer?" he inquired.

"Respectful would be best."

He screwed up his face in contemplation before shaking his head and saying, "I'm sorry I don't stock that. I can give you cocky with a dash of enthusiasm."

"Potter, I will see you in September."

"Yes, Miss."

James stood up and made to leave.

"And, Mr. Potter," she called, forcing him to linger a second longer. "A change in attitude please."

James gave her a quick wink before closing the door behind him.

McGonagall's office had been so dark that James' eyes became overwhelmed by the sunshine. After blinking a few times, adjusting to the sudden daylight, his eyes immediately found the pretty redheaded girl. She was not accompanied by the girls she had been with earlier, but was instead in rapid conversation with a boy.

Not just any boy, but a boy with a truly horrifying face.

The boy had a large, hook nose and very long, black hair that looked as though it had neither been brushed nor washed since his birth.

James smirked as he noticed the scowl the girl was wearing. She was clearly not impressed with his horrifying face either.

Giving a small shudder, James brought his gaze back to the much more pleasing picture that was the pretty redhead.

The redhead, whose name was Lily, was arguing with the unattractive boy, whose name was Severus and also happened to be her best friend.

"It's not that I have a problem with them," she sighed. "It's just that I don't like what they're doing to you."

"They're not doing anything to me, Lily. I can make my own decisions," replied Severus.

"I'm not saying that you can't, but they're changing you, Sev."

"They're not as bad as you think they are. If you'd just give them a chance-"

She laughed out loud at that.

"I'm not joking, Lily."

Lily raised her eyebrows, challenging, "So you're saying in all seriousness that I should attempt to be friends with these people?"

"Y-yes," he stammered.

She gave another laugh of disbelief.

"Sev, these people look down on me. They look down on all of us locals! The other day Avery called me a grot."

"I'm sure he didn't mean anything by it."

"Except that I'm grotty?"

"Lily, you can't take everything they say so personally. They're nice people, I promise."

She rolled her eyes.

"Come on!" he persisted. "Don't you trust my judgement? I thought we were friends. Aren't friends supposed to trust each other?"

For a second it looked as though he was wearing her down, if only he'd kept his mouth shut.

"Besides," he continued, unknowingly screwing himself over as he did so, "They accepted me didn't they?"

"Yes, but when, Severus?" she snapped. "Not until your parents-"

"Lily, don't" he warned.

"What? You know it's the truth! If your dad was still around they'd still treat you like the rest of us."

With the silence that followed, Lily looked down at the floor and bit her lip. Severus, on the other hand, allowed his gaze to wander away, searching for some way out of the awkward aftermath of their argument.

What he saw did not make him feel any better.

A boy who he had never seen before was staring at Lily.  _His_ Lily. The stranger caught Severus's eye and received a sullen scowl. He didn't like boys staring at Lily.

The stranger did not scowl back and so, for a few moments of blissful ignorance, Severus allowed himself a flush of pride. This was soon knocked out of him, though. As the stranger walked past, he allowed his shoulder to collide with Severus' and almost sent him to the ground. He was rescued, however, by Lily, who had managed to grip onto his wrist and keep him from falling.

"Filthy git," spat Severus, glaring after the stranger.

"I'm sure it was an accident," said Lily bitterly, dropping Severus’ wrist as soon as he was stable.

As soon as the words left her mouth she saw James Potter turn and make an obscene hand gesture, yelling, "Wanker."

"Then again," she mused, frowning after him. "Maybe not."


	2. Introducing Punch and Judy

**Chapter Two: Introducing Punch and Judy**

It was a welcome surprise for Angie Potter when she was greeted at nine thirty in the morning by a knock on the door from Reverend Macdonald.

It was not such a welcome surprise for James Potter when he was woken at nine thirty-four in the morning by Mary Macdonald and Dorcas Meadowes.

(Nine Twenty-Six in the Morning)

"I don't see why we're giving her cake," muttered Mary Macdonald darkly.

"Because she did us a favour, now stop complaining," replied her father, smiling as he scolded.

Though father and daughter, Mary and Walter Macdonald could not have differed more in their dispositions. Mary was the sort who muttered darkly. Walter was the sort of never did anything darkly. It was almost as if Walter Macdonald were composed entirely of lightness, and though this lightness was generally helpful to his position as vicar, he had held said position so long that nobody could tell you if his lightness was a direct result of being a vicar or if his being a vicar was a direct result of his lightness. Such a mystery was important because it left speculation regarding the source of Walter's only daughter Mary's rather more negative attitude.

"We paid her," reasoned Mary. "It wasn't a favour, it was a job."

Reverend Macdonald chose to ignore this particular dark muttering and instead knocked on the door of the woman who had incited such bickering between them.

"Morning, Vicar," greeted Angie Potter, still in her nightgown. "What can I do for you?"

Mary nodded glumly at the cake in her hands. Perhaps the glummest anyone had ever looked whilst being in such close proximity to a cake.

"Oh, that's not for me is it?" cried Angie, smiling widely at the sight of the cake.

Angie Potter was always one to smile at cake. Not that she was incredibly large, but she was stout at the very least. Perhaps her unnatural shortness did not help her in looking skinny. In her youth she might've tried a bit harder to moderate her weight but she was a rather old woman and had practically stopped caring about her appearance. This was evident in the shocking length of her thinning grey hair, which fell all the way down to her hips.

Once Reverend Macdonald had confirmed that the cake was indeed for her, Angie was quick to invite both Macdonalds in for a cup of tea.

Walter nodded down at the aging woman as he passed her, entering her little cottage.

Mary, however, was not able to nod down as she herself was practically the same tiny height.

"Thanks again for letting us use your copier," said Walter.

"Oh, it's not trouble at all."

Just as Angie took the lead and guided her guests towards her kitchen, there was a cry from the outside.

"Mare!"

Mary alone heard this, due to a combination of youthful ears and an inclination towards recognising her own name (or nickname in this case). She turned to see why on earth she was being called at all.

Stopping before she closed the front door behind her, she poked her head around to see the running figure of Dorcas Meadowes.

"Mare!" she cried, practically lunging herself at the door and almost knocking Mary to the ground.

After stopping to catch her breath for a total of four seconds, Dorcas spoke again, "I thought I saw you come in here. I was just across the green with Janine and Polly and I said to them, I said 'Oi, that's Mary.' But then I saw you and your dad come in and so I had to run before you vanished."

"Cas, slow down. I don't have a clue what you're on about."

Dorcas sighed and pushed her matted blonde fringe out of her eyes. "Listen, Mary. I really really need you to do me a favour."

(Nine Thirty-Four in the Morning)

"Absolutely not!"

With a hefty groan, James Potter awoke. He was not particularly happy about being woken by a shrill, unidentified cry.

After yawning and stretching his arms, James propped himself on his elbows and allowed the sunlight to burn his eyes.

"I said no!" came the same voice that had woken him.

Never one to pass up on prying, James followed the voice out of his bedroom and to the staircase. Leaning over the rail he saw two teenage girls.

"No, Mare, listen it's really important!" cried the leggy one who had an abundance of wavy blonde hair and a butterfly clip.

"Well, why can't it wait?" asked the other who was substantially shorter and had brown hair of an unidentifiable length due to it's being stuffed away in a bun.

He thought he recognised the two of them, but was far too groggy to remember where from.

It appeared that the girls were bickering and they continued to do so, unaware of his presence.

"Okay so you know how last night Colin and I snuck onto the Prewett farm?"

"No, I didn't know that."

Dorcas appeared not to have heard this.

"Well, we sort of ended up behind the chicken coops," a faint blush blossomed in her cheeks. "Anyway, he told me that he really really liked me and I said that if he tried hard enough I could like him back."

"Cas, I really don't wanna hear it."

"So then he told me that he thought I was a real stunner. Way better looking than Maureen Baddock which I thought was such a lovely thing to say because, well you've seen Maureen! Not to mention she’s got huge boobs. So that sort of got to me and so I let him kiss me."

"Cas, please stop the story," she said.

"We were fooling around for a few minutes, right? It was really nice and everything but then he went and whipped it out! I mean, you don't just whip it out! You've got to wait for the girl to do it. I didn't know what to do, Mare," Dorcas giggled. "So I just laughed, right? Then he got all embarrassed and said we should probably go. I felt really bad after that but I didn't know what to say to make it better so I just told him that he better put it away first."

"Cas!" cried Mary. "I don't wanna be rude but please shut up."

"Don't you want to hear the penis story?"

"Not even slightly."

Dorcas' eyes widened as she whined, "Why not?"

"Because I don't want to hear stories about my brother's penis."

"Yeah, but it's Colin," said Dorcas, as though this changed matters.

"Yeah, but he's still my brother."

"Yeah, but it's Colin so it's not weird."

"It is weird! And anyway what's this got to do with me covering you at the jumble sale?"

"Well, that's the thing isn't it?" she said, with an extravagant sigh. "He hasn't spoken to me since. So I need to go and talk to him."

Mary crossed her arms impatiently and said, "It doesn't start 'til eleven. Why can't you talk to him now?"

"He's playing football and besides, I might want more than three hours with him..." Dorcas trailed off suggestively causing Mary to wince. "So," Dorcas continued with a pleading smile, "will you cover for me?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm not spending the day selling broken toys and old textbooks just so you can cop off with my brother."

"That's very selfish of you," said Dorcas sulkily.

Mary rolled her eyes to the ceiling and then, noticing something she had not realised was there, she started.

"Uh, Cas," she said, warningly.

"No it is selfish!" cried Dorcas, not paying attention to anything other than propagating her twisted reasoning.

"Cas."

"Because, right," she explained, "If things go well with me and Colin then that makes two people happy."

"Cas."

"You see? If you just sacrifice a little bit of time then you could make two people you love happy."

"Cas!"

"Fine, don't help," she huffed. "But might I point out that it's terribly unchristian of you."

"Cas, could you please stop dribbling on about your rubbish for one second."

Dorcas’ mouth hung open slightly, evidently rather offended.

"There appears to be somebody eavesdropping," said Mary.

Dorcas followed Mary's eyeline and found herself staring at a smirking teenage boy.

"Hello," he croaked sleepily.

"Hello," replied the two girls uncertainly.

"Listen," he said. "I don't wanna be rude or anything, but what on earth are you doing here?"

"We could ask the same of you," Mary retorted.

"Not really. I live here," he informed them.

The girls looked at each other, dumbstruck.

"Did Angie get herself a toy boy?" Dorcas asked of Mary.

"No she didn't," answered the teenage boy.

Another shifty glance was shared before Dorcas decided it was better to direct all curiosities to the curious boy himself.

"Excuse me," began Dorcas, "But would you mind telling us who you are?"

"Not at all. I'm James Potter."

"Right, okay, but that doesn't really help," said Mary.

He chuckled.

"I'm Angie's nephew," he elaborated.

"Come for a visit?"

"Yeah, " he said, nodding. "Just a short visit. Two years at the most."

"Two years?" Dorcas echoed.

"I'm staying with her for my A-Levels."

"Oh," said Dorcas.

"Why?" Mary inquired.

"Because my parents have buggered off."

"Where to?"

"To heaven," he said solemnly. "They died."

Dorcas clutched her chest and mouthed the words, "Oh my God."

James cracked a grin before quickly correcting himself, "Just kidding. They went to France, which I reckon might be worse than dying anyway."

"You are seriously disturbed," snapped Mary.

"Quite possibly," he replied.

Both girls still remained thoroughly confused, however they did not get the chance to ask more of the mysterious and nonsensical James Potter as Angie and Walter had just reappeared from the kitchen.

"Dorcas!" cried Reverend Macdonald with a smile. "What are you doing here?"

"Did you need to use my copier for your newsletter again?" asked Angie.

"Oh, no! Nothing like that. I just really needed to ask a huge favour of your lovely daughter," she announced, nodding towards Mary.

"Don't you dare," said Mary through gritted teeth.

Dorcas swatted away Mary's mutterings and beamed up at the vicar.

"What was it you needed my daughter to do?" he asked kindly.

"Well, I feel awful about it, but I really can't help out at the jumble sale today."

"Oh, no," he said.

"I know! It's terrible. But the thing is, I'm taking English Language in September and I really wanted to get a good idea of the curriculum before I start. And, well, your son actually said I could look over the coursework he did last year."

"Did he now?" he asked, beaming at this. He always did light up even more than usual at the mention of his family. "Which son is this?"

"Well, the one who did English Language last year."

"Derek?" he guessed.

"Colin."

"Ah, of course," he said, before turning to Angie and saying, "I lose track of what child does what if I'm honest."

"Yeah, well, he said that he could help me today and obviously the first thing I said was that I was very sorry but I'd made a commitment and I should respect that," said Dorcas so sincerely that even Mary would have believed it had she not known the truth. "But Colin said that he's not going to have a lot of free time so it's now or never really. He was really keen to help."

"Colin is very helpful."

"He is," she agreed.

"Alright then, Dorcas," he smiled. "I'm sure Mary could take your place."

"No I can't!" cried Mary.

"Oh, Mary. Of course you can."

"No," she said stubbornly. "I have other plans."

He furrowed his eyebrows in what was possibly his imitation of a frown.

"What are you doing?" he inquired.

"I'm... having tea... with Polly's family. They asked me weeks ago. It'd be rude to not go now."

"Ah," he sighed. "Well that leaves us in rather a pickle doesn't it?"

"I'm sure James could go," Angie offered.

"Your nephew?" asked Mary.

"That's the one. You've met him have you?"

"Yeah, he was on the stairs," she trailed off as she noticed the staircase was completely vacant of human life. "Oh, he must've left."

* * *

 

The minute the vicar had re-entered the hallway, James had been out of there quicker than a flash. It wasn't that he had an issue with the Church as a whole, he just had a small issue with the way that they were constantly trying to get people to help society.

This did not sit well with James’ desire to do whatever he wanted at all times, most of which benefited him alone.

Charity was not high up in his list of priorities.

"James," his aunt called softly from the other side of his door.

"Come in," he replied.

She opened the door a crack and peeped through to see her nephew lying on the bed, reading the kind of magazine that a vicar should not, under any circumstances, see.

"Put that away, the vicar's coming up," she said.

He groaned. "Why?"

"Because pictures of naked women aren't very Christian now are they?"

"No," he pressed, ignoring her comment regarding his magazine. "I mean why is the vicar coming up?"

"Because he wants you to lend him a hand at the jumble sale today."

James did not make any movement other than to turn the page of his magazine.

"James," she prompted.

"Why should I help?"

"Excuse me?"

"Well, what's in it for me?"

"James," she sighed. "That's not the point of charity."

"Which is why I don't do charity," he said simply.

"Oh, dear. Who says that they don't do charity?" asked a man with a very deep voice who James could not see because he was still lying on his back and staring determinately at his magazine. In any case, it was not a huge leap of faith to assume that this man was the vicar his aunt had been referring to.

"I reckon that might've been me," replied James.

"Ah, well that's a pity," said the vicar.

Even though he was still not looking, James knew that the man had entered his room.

"Is it?"                                            

"Yes, quite. We could really use your help down in the village hall today."

"Doing what exactly?" asked James.

"It's a jumble sale, see? You'll be unpacking boxes and selling second hand bits and bobs to people."

"Don't you have a charity shop for that rubbish?"

"Well that’s an Oxfam," he said, lowering himself to sit on the end of James' bed. "This is on behalf of the church."

"Sounds delightful."

"I think you'd have more fun then you realise."

"Really?" he scoffed.

"It's hard being the new student. This would be a good opportunity to make friends."

James snorted, "I've never had much trouble making friends."

"You might think that now, but this is a very close-knit community. It might be hard to penetrate."

"Fine!" snapped James. "I'll do it if it'll get you out of my room."

Angie was aghast. "James! We don't talk to guests like that!"

The vicar just chuckled.

"Now, Angie, don't be too hard on the boy. I remember I had a mouth on me when I was his age."

James highly doubted that was true but it subdued Angie enough.

"Right you are," she said. "Would you like another cup of tea before you leave, Vicar?"

"That'd be lovely," he replied and, with a loud creak, he lifted himself off of James' bed. "You'll need to arrive at the village hall around eleven."

"That's fine."

"Enjoy your magazine."

"I will."

* * *

 

It was not a long walk to the village hall. Angie Potter's house opened directly onto what appeared to be a green and it was just across this green that the hall was situated.

The inside looked rather spacious but perhaps that was to do with the fact that the only objects within the hall were three tables, a dozen or so boxes, and a weary looking teenage boy.

"Hello," said the boy upon James' entrance. He had light brown hair and weak smile.

"Hi," said James.

"Are you here to buy something?"

"Actually, no. I'm here to help out."

The boy raised a questioning eyebrow.

"I'm James Potter; Angie Potter's nephew," he explained.

"I'm Remus Lupin; Olivia Lupin's nephew."

James frowned and asked, "Do I know her?"

Remus bit his lip and conceded, "No, but I thought it might make me sound witty and cool."

"Ah, well it did a bit."

"Really?"

"Eh," said James with a shrug.

Bending down, Remus got a sturdy grip on the box by his feet and, very slowly, began to lift it up. By the time the box was on the table, he looked as though he'd had a run in with a large bear.

"So you're staying with your aunt and she sent you to help out?" Remus guessed.

"Sort of," James replied, strictly ignoring the withered appearance of his new companion, thinking it would be unkind to comment.

"Sort of?"

"Well, I'm sort of living with her at the moment," he clarified. "At least until after sixth-form."

"Ah, that's cool," said Remus.

"Yeah, well anyway she sent me here to fill in for someone."

"Who? Meadowes or Evans?" he asked.

"I honestly don't have a clue. She's blonde with really really long legs."

"Meadowes," said Remus, answering his own question.

"So what is it we're doing here?" He gave the room a quick glance, hoping that perhaps an interesting activity would strut out from behind a curtain covered in bells and explosives. Unfortunately, fate had other plans for his day.

"We are emptying boxes," Remus announced, on fate's behalf.

"Glamorous."

"Very."

The two boys received a total of five customers in the following two hours. Due to this, they were forced to otherwise entertain themselves.

At around one in the afternoon, they were both sitting on one of the tables and playing a rather fierce game of snap.

"You know," said James, throwing down a three of hearts. "I think that card games are possibly the most underrated sources of entertainment."

"I might have to agree with you there... SNAP!" Remus cried. "Does that mean I win? Does that mean this is the third time in a row that I've won?"

"Alright, you cocky bastard, don't get ahead of yourself."

Remus raised an eyebrow and grinned.

"You want a rematch then?" offered Remus.

"Nah I reckon you're too good at this game and it's doing awful things to my pride."

"Yeah you're right," said Remus, swinging his legs over the table and hopping to his feet.

James followed suit.

"Besides," said Remus pointedly. "We should really get back to all these customers."

"Is it always this eventful?" asked James dryly, glancing around the near-empty hall.

Remus grimaced. "Sometimes there's a Punch and Judy show."

Just as the two boys had seemed to reach an agreement on the state of uneventfulness the pitiful sale was in, an event took place in the form of an opening door.

Into the hall entered a girl with vivid red hair that had not been brushed recently enough, a ragged-looking daisy chain sitting atop of her head, and an apologetic expression on her pretty face.

James felt his mouth get a little dry at the sight of her. He's seen her once before and she had had much the same effect on him.

"I am so sorry!" she cried, taking little notice of James as she flew over to Remus.

"That's alright," said Remus, very quick to put a halt to any further apology. "It hasn't exactly been thriving to tell you the truth."

"I didn't... think... it would be... busy," she managed to get out between heavy breaths.

"Nah, it usually picks up after lunch," he agreed. "Did you bring the boxes from the Church?"

The girl shot Remus a confused look.

"I thought Dorcas was supposed to do that," she said.

"Ah right," said Remus. "I'll go get them then."

"Why? Where's Dorcas?"

"Otherwise occupied it seems."

"Oh. Is it just us two then?" she asked.

"No. We have help."

It was only then that she looked over at James.

"Hi," she greeted warmly. He responded to this with equal warmth and they solidified this meeting with an adequately pleasant handshake.

"I'm Lily Evans," she said.

"James Potter," he replied.

There was something about his face and voice that felt familiar to her, but Lily was certain she didn't know this boy so she asked, "Have you just moved here?"

James narrowed his eyes at her.

"How'd you know I haven't been here the whole time?" he said.

Remus and Lily both shared a look before laughing.

"This place isn't exactly a jam-packed metropolis of people," Remus explained. "When you see a face you don't recognise you know it's because they're not from around here."

"Fantastic!" cried James, rubbing his hands together. "I'll be getting all the attention then."

Lily laughed.

"Right, you two carry on here," said Remus. "I'll get the boxes that Dorcas was supposed to get."

"Oh, no, you don't have to," Lily protested. "I can go."

"Nah, it's fine."

She looked at him with doubt in her eyes and said, "You sure you can manage on your own?"

"Lily, it's boxes of old toys not a sports car."

"I know but I don't want you to get worn out."

He sighed, "You're worse than my mother, you know that?"

James didn't understand anything that was going on and it didn't sound particularly interesting. He therefore distracted himself by flipping through the pages of a nearby copy of The Catcher in the Rye.

"Alright, alright, go," she said when James had reached the fifth page, raising her hands in surrender.

"Be back in ten," he promised, giving James a quick nod before departing.

Lily watched Remus leave before turning to look at James, her mouth opening to begin conversation. She was going to ask him what he thought of Sowsworth, how long he was staying, where he was staying, who he'd met, anything really. Lily liked getting to know people. Apparently James did not take much interest in polite chit-chat because he was still flipping through the book with great concentration, discouraging Lily from saying anything at all.

Then, finally, James spoke.

"Nice hair," he teased.

"Sorry, what?" she asked, taken aback by his sudden breaking of the silence.

"Nice hair,” he repeated.

Lily frowned and said, "Is that supposed to be a reference to the fact that I'm ginger?"

"No, it was a reference to the fact that you having a daisy chain in your hair."

Her frown of confusion persevered for a moment or so before it was replaced by realisation.

"Oh, shit. I forgot!" she cried, pulling the thing off of her head.

"Is that why you were late? Making daisy chains?" he asked, amused as he snapped the book closed and dropped it on the nearest table.

"Sort of," she admitted.

"Seriously?"

"Don't look at me like that. I'm not mad!"

James snorted, "Right, you just have a terribly sane affection for daisies."

"Well actually I do rather like daisies." Lily ignored his look of scepticism. "But that's not why I was late."

"Then how come?"

"Well, my friend Janine stopped me on my way to the church. She'd had an argument with her brother again and she needed someone to whinge to."

"And this factors in the daisy chain how?"

"Well, she  _was_  rabbiting on a bit," Lily explained, refusing to meet James' eyes as she continued. "We ended up sitting down on the grass. Then I sort of got a little bit bored and ended up making the daisy chain."

"Well it does sound less mad when you explain it like that," he admitted.

"I'm glad."

"There's one thing I still can't figure out, though."

"Oh, yeah? What's that?"

"Yeah," he said. "Why were you on your way to the church?"

"Oh, I was supposed to get the boxes..." she trailed off and turned red.

"Ah, so you lied!" cried James gleefully. "You deceived our poor Remus into doing your work for you."

Lily shook her head frantically, as a child would when they'd been caught stealing from their mother's purse.

"I didn't want him to get them! I would've gone myself. I just didn't want to get in trouble for forgetting them."

"How much trouble would you have gotten into?" he asked in disbelief.

"Well, none really," she conceded. "But I just didn't want to look stupid."

"So you thought you'd blame it on poor Dorcas."

She was going very red and still not meeting his eye.

"Oh, don't get all doe-eyed just because I caught you out."

"I wasn't."

"Yeah right," he scoffed.

Silence fell between them for another few moments. There was not much left for them to do, however, so James preoccupied himself by playing an instrument meant for children.

Lily preoccupied herself with staring at James, unable to shake that feeling that she'd seen him before. There was just something familiar about the cockiness he exhibited as he knocked out a very jumpy rendition of what sounded like Mary Had a Little Lamb.

He soon got bored of this and made to turn away from the instrument, forcing Lily to gaze elsewhere in order to avoid the utter humiliation that would no doubt descend upon her if James caught her staring.

"Got bored of the xylophone, did you?" she asked, trying to break the tension.

James gave her a pitying look and said, "Come on now, it's a mini glockenspiel."

"Sorry."

"You should be."

Lily let out a breathy laugh. "

You said your last name was Potter, right?" she asked, redirecting the conversation and stealing yet another curious glance.

"I believe I did."

"Are you related to Angie then?" She thought that perhaps this was why she knew his face and his hair and his voice and his cocky attitude so well (never mind that Angie held none of these qualities).

He grinned. "Yeah, I'm her nephew. I'm staying with her actually."

"For how long?"

"Until I finish school I suppose," he said.

She glanced at him again. "Oh? What year are you in?"

"I'm going into sixth-form in September."

"Oh!" she cried with a smile. "That means you're in my year."

"Cool," he said, smiling too.

As James returned to the glockenspiel and began to play Three Blind Mice, Lily’s gaze kept on his face.

"Am I really that attractive?" he said wearily upon ending his song.

"Sorry?” stammered Lily, doing her very best to restrain blushing.

"Well, it's just that you keep staring at me."

"I do not."

"Oh, but you do," he insisted.

"Alright," she admitted. "But it's not because you're attractive."

"But I am attractive, right?"

"I never said that."

"That doesn't make it any less true," said James defiantly.

Lily giggled slightly, unsure whether or not she found him funny or irritating.

"Why were you staring at me then?" he pressed.

"It's just..." she considered lying, but she didn't know what the point would be. After all, her reasoning wasn't embarrassing in itself. Just the staring. "Are you sure we haven't met before? I feel like I recognise you from somewhere."

"I came here back in July to talk to McGonagall. Maybe you saw me then."

"Maybe," she said thoughtfully, drifting off for a few seconds. Not exactly a long period of time but long enough for James to get bored.

He cleared his through, bringing her out of her daze.

"Sorry," she said, blinking a lot. "I tend to daydream sometimes."

"I didn’t realise I was that boring," he teased.

Lily didn't bite this particular bait and instead directed the conversation towards an area which interested her far more.

"What do you think of Sowsworth so far?" she inquired.

"Well I haven't seen much of it but it doesn't look like it's the most thrilling place in the world."

"It's pretty though!"

James shrugged.

 "I've seen prettier. If I'm honest, I'm counting down the days until I can get out of here," he admitted.

"You’ll change your mind," said Lily. "The people are friendlier than anywhere else, we all help each other out, we have a good school, we have... we have an amazing Farmer’s Market, we have... erm... well, we have locally baked bread."

"Wait, the bread is baked locally? That changes everything."

She gave him a sarcastic smile.

"I don't care what you think. Sowsworth is the best place in the world. I wouldn't want to live anywhere else. Why do you think all the rich families come and live here? It's peaceful, it's beautiful, and it's friendly. I bet you couldn't find anywhere else nearly as wonderful."

The way she babbled on about the place made it seem like some sort of promise land, but James knew full well that is was nothing of the sort. Sowsworth was a wasteland that comprised of seven shops, a pub, and the incredibly bored shadows of lonely people. It was not bloody Shangri-la.

Still, her babbling was a tad endearing.

Just a tad though.

"How about you show me around sometime?" he suggested in a would-be casual voice. "You could prove me wrong about the place."

"I’m sorry,” she said sincerely, “But I have a boyfriend.”

"Well we both know that's a lie." She made a noise of protest but he continued to speak. "But let's humour this little boyfriend fantasy of yours for a moment. Why would it matter if you had a boyfriend? I was asking you to show me around the village not to show me your knickers."

“Oh, and a tour is really all you had in mind?"

"Jesus, you're quick to judge!" he exclaimed. "It's a good thing I didn't ask for a map of the place. You might've kneed me in the bollocks and ran away screaming."

"Don't give me any ideas," she warned.

"Anyway, what makes you think that I'm even attracted to you?"

"You’re not?”

He shrugged before saying, "You’ve got small boobs."

Eyes widening, she was quick to cross her arms across her chest.

"Also," he continued, "This whole making up a boyfriend thing is putting you across as a bit mentally unstable."

"You are a pig and my boyfriend is not made up."

"Oh, really?"

"Really."

"What's his name then?"

"Kenneth," she replied, a little too quickly for James' liking.

"Kenneth?" he cried, as though it was the most absurd word he had ever heard.

"Yes. His name is Kenneth."

"Seriously? That's the best you could come up with?"

"Excuse me?"

"It's just that you could've named him anything," he professed. "Why Kenneth? Why not Dave or Charlie? Why did you have to pick something so ugly?"

"I didn't pick it."

"Whatever you say, Evans."

She narrowed her eyes at him.                      

"I'd watch your mouth if I were you, Potter," Lily warned.

"And why's that? Is your boyfriend big?" he asked mockingly.

"No," she said fairly. "But neither are you."

"Oi!"

"What?"

"I reckon that was uncalled for."

She opened her mouth in incredulity. "Are you serious? You haven't stopped insulting me for the past ten minutes."

"Yeah, but I'm trying to get in your knickers so it's not offensive."

She scowled and smacked him very lightly on the shoulder.

"So we did order in a Punch and Judy show then," said a smirking Remus.

Neither James nor Lily had noticed him re-enter the hall and were reasonably surprised to hear his voice.

"We're getting puppets?" asked Lily, unnaturally casual.

"Actually I was referring to you two." Remus nodded from Lily to James. Neither made eye contact. "Alright," said Remus, clapping his hands together as though he had exciting news. "I ran into Benjy outside and he said that he wants to help out."

James snorted, "Right, because with this mass of customers what we really need are more people to help out. Why does he want to help out anyway?"

"His mum's angry with him," he explained.

"Why?" asked Lily. "She didn't find him hanging around the Longbottom's again, did she?"

"I reckon she must've."

"Shit."

"So he wants to do charity work because he had a fight with his mummy?" James queried, his tone mocking.

"Pretty much."

"Sounds like a wanker to me," said James.

There was something about the way he said that word that seemed a little too familiar to Lily. Then it clicked.

"I knew I'd seen you before," she said quietly.

"Sorry?"

"When you had that meeting with McGonagall a while back," she took a pause she purse her lips in displeasure. "You shoved into my friend Severus on your way out, didn't you?"

He grinned a little.

"Oh yeah, I forgot about that. He was an ugly git. Oi!" cried James. "This Severus isn't your boyfriend is he?"

"My boyfriend’s called Kenneth," she reminded him.

"Oh, yeah."

At that moment Benjy arrived, although not alone. He was accompanied by none other than Dorcas Meadowes who was talking rapidly to him.

"And I haven't been able to find him since," she finished. "You haven't seen him have you?"

"Sorry. Last I saw Colin he was running off to the Prewetts with you," he said.

Dorcas pouted at this.

"You were my last hope!" she whimpered. "If I can't find Colin then I suppose I'll have to die of boredom here with you people."

"Cheers for that, Cas," said Lily, but she was glad for a distraction from James Potter who had very quickly become someone she didn't particularly want to interact with.

"Hiya!" she flashed a smile and made her way to stand beside her friend. "You haven't seen..."

"Colin? No sorry."

Dorcas let out a heavy sigh.

"Well, I suppose I really am stuck here then."

"What so we have five people helping out now?" questioned Remus. "I feel like this is a little overboard."

"Well I'm a late comer so I'll go," said Benjy.

"No I think you're one of the few people who actually want to be here."

"James can go," Lily volunteered at an incredible speed. "I mean, it's obvious he's not enjoying himself."

"That's fine by me," said James, leaving abruptly and defiantly not giving Lily a smile.

"Remus, you can go with him too if you like," Lily's voice had become much kinder in James' departure. "You've been here the longest and I'm sure there's stuff you'd rather be doing."

"You sure?" asked Remus.

"Yeah."

He grinned and thanked her before following James out of the hall.

Lily turned to look at her blonde friend, who was still pouting.

"Cas, I'm surprised you didn't volunteer to leave."

"Well I was just thinking that maybe Colin might come in," she said hopefully.

"Not if he's avoiding you," muttered Benjy.

"Wait, Cas, why is Colin avoiding you?"

"I don't want to talk about it," she sighed.

Benjy echoed her sigh in relief, "Thank God for that."

"Basically," she began, in direct contradiction with her previous reluctance to talk. "Colin and I decided to go for a walk 'round the Prewett farm because there's hardly ever any other people about."

"Right?" encouraged Lily, ignoring the warning look Benjy was giving her over Dorcas' shoulder.

* * *

 

The sunshine had increased substantially while they had been inside, and so, upon exiting the village hall, both Remus and James removed their jumpers.

"Where are you off to?" asked James.

Remus shrugged. "Home, I suppose."

"Oh," said James, disappointed.

"Why?"

"I dunno." He turned to look at Remus. "I just thought you might want to hang out."

"With you?"

"Unless you've got better friends to hang around," he said quickly.

"Actually, I don't," said Remus.

"Well that's sad. I'm a terrible friend. Just you wait a see."

Remus just grinned at him.

"What?" James questioned. "I'm serious you know, I am a terrible terrible friend. Awful."

"You're not really selling yourself to me, are you?"

"Well, I reckon I don't have to try very hard."

Remus frowned, asking, "Why's that?"

"Because I feel like we've established an acquaintanceship now that I can utilise for the next two years."

"How so?"

"Simple," said James. "You are obligated to hang around with me whenever I need someone to hang around."

"Well, while that sounds fun..."

"Not fun," corrected James, "More like a mediocre way to pass time."

Remus chuckled, "Right right, of course."

"And your objection was?" asked James, as the boys strolled across the green.

"What if I don't want to hang around you?"

"Too bad," he stated simply.

"Brilliant."

It was just then that Remus and James' paths were obstructed by three rather well dressed boys.

"Oi, get a load of this," sneered the one to the left who had dark hair and very big eyebrows. "It looks like Wheezer has got himself a little friend."

James turned to Remus.

"Wheezer?" he questioned in a whisper.

"It's nothing," said Remus. "They're better off ignored."

"What? No clever comment today?"

"What would be the point? You never understand them," said Remus before fumbling to stuff his hands in his pockets as he walked past them, head high the whole time.

"You're not even going to introduce us to the new Mrs. Wheezer?" one of them catcalled.

"Oi! Mrs. Wheezer!" cried another.

"Yes," responded James, smiling contently. "Although you should know that I generally go by James Potter. Mrs. Wheezer is strictly for dinner parties and Christmas."

The boy with the eyebrows knitted them even further together in a frown which may or may not have been an attempt at intimidation.

"What have you got to say for yourself?" he asked of James.

"Plenty," said James. "Do you have any topic you'd like me to focus on, Eyebrows?"

"It's Bernard. Bernard Mulciber."

"Well, while that's a very fine name, I'm afraid I shall have to hereafter refer to you as Eyebrows."

Eyebrows rolled his eyes. "Listen, smartarse, I'm trying to do you a favour here. Trust me when I say that hanging around with Wheezer isn't going to do you any favours."

"I'm sorry, correct me if I'm mistaken. Are you trying to seduce me into being your friend? Because I've got to tell you that while your eyebrow action is attractive enough it's not exactly getting me hot and bothered."

Eyebrows made to lunge for James but his two companions held him back, while Remus grabbed James' forearm and tugged him.

"Come on," he muttered.

James conceded, but only because (not that he would ever admit this) he didn't see himself coming out on top in a fight against three angry teenage boys with his only back up being a boy they referred to as 'Wheezer'.

Eyebrows and Co. did not follow them, and so when they turned down a road named Church Street (quite possibly because of the church not ten metres down it) and seated themselves on the graveyard wall, they felt comfortable enough to resume conversation.

"They were right, you know," said Remus, squinting in the sunlight and fiddling with a loose thread on his trousers. "Hanging around me isn't going to do you any favours."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I'm not exactly the kind of bloke people want to be mates with, that's all."

"Rubbish," dismissed James. "Do you have murderous tendencies?"

"Well, no but..."

"Are you likely to fondle me?"

"No."

"Do you steal from people?"

"No."

"Do you touch yourself in public?"

"No!"

"Then I can't see what's so offensive about you."

"I'm just not very cool, that's all," he said.

"What?" cried James. "You're very cool. I mean, I've only been here about a day and so far you seem like the only sane person."

Remus frowned, but didn't say anything. Instead he appeared to have found a terribly interesting piece of moss between two bricks in the wall.

James didn't seem to notice, to Remus' relief, because James was now staring at the roof of the church.

After a while, he mused, "You know, there's a football up there."

Remus allowed his eyes to follow James' gaze until he saw the football in question, sitting quite comfortably in the guttering of the church roof.

"Indeed there is," said Remus.

"And nobody's thought to get it down?"

Remus didn't really know what to say to this, partially because he had never really thought about the roof of the church, but mostly because he'd never had to retrieve a football in his life. In fact, even conversations about footballs made him queasy.

"I'm hungry," said James finally.

"Me too."

James leapt off of the wall, announcing he was off home for lunch and asked Remus if he’d be interested in joining.

"I better not. My mum's making toad in the hole."

"Well I would judge you eternally for missing out on that."

"I'll see you around then?"

"Yeah."

"Wait!" James called after him.

"Yeah?"

"Which house is yours?"

"Number seven."

"Which road?"

"This one!" and with that, Remus disappeared into a little blue cottage not far away.

The blue cottage on Church Street, James noted. He would have to remember that.

* * *

 

Eyebrows and Co. were not happy. In fact, their not-happiness incited them so far as to relay their unfortunate encounter to their peers.

In turn, these peers were equally displeased. Thus, chaotic conversation ensued.

"I reckon he's one of the locals," said Eyebrows.

"How come?"

"Because nobody new's moved in around here as far as I know."

"He's not moved into the Dearborn house then?"

"Nah that's still empty," confirmed Eyebrows.

"Also he was hanging out with Wheezer. That's just a major indication of grottiness."

"What did he say his name was?"

"Potter, I think."

"Must be related to Angie."

"She's a local if ever I saw one."

"We can't let gits like that get away with talking like that to people like us!"

"What are we gonna do about it?"

"We ought to teach him a lesson!"

"Do we know where to find him?"

"I know where Angie Potter lives."

"Good. Let's go get him."

"What? All of us?"

"What about your brother?" Eyebrows suggested to the boy whose house they were conversing in.

"Yeah... " said the boy thoughtfully. "My brother would flatten him. Oi Pettigrew, go and get my brother."

The boy called Pettigrew whimpered, "Do I have to?"

"Why? You're not scared of him are you?"

"No! Why would you say that?" he cried.

"Oh, don't be a coward, Pettigrew. Just go and get him."

"Why do we need your brother?"

"Because," he said proudly, "My brother could do him."

Which was true enough, but the boy was unaware that he was putting a little too much faith in his relationship with his brother by expecting him to beat anyone up on his behalf.

James had once told McGonagall that Angie Potter was an excellent cook. He hadn't been wrong. At least not about that.

"Smells good," he said appreciatively, entering the kitchen.

"It'll taste better," she replied.

James grinned and leaned over her shoulder.

"What is it?"

"Chicken stew."

Before he could beg for an early taste, there was a knock on the door.

"Can you get that while I lay the table?" Angie asked him.

James did so and made his way down the hallway.

Upon opening the door, he was greeted with the appearance of a very handsome teenage boy with black hair and grey eyes.

"Hello," said the stranger, flashing an unnervingly toothy grin. "I'm here to 'do you.'"

 


	3. The Whiskey Well

**Chapter Three: The Whiskey Well**

James faltered only for a moment before replying, "Are you here to seduce me or to kill me?"

"Which would you prefer?" asked the handsome stranger, narrowing his eyes and curling his mouth into a twisted half-smile.

"Well," said James, failing to be intimidated, "I suppose you are rather  _pretty_." If the word pretty was supposed to insult the stranger, it did not work. Instead he grinned as James continued, "Unfortunately I don't think that your prettiness is really enough for me to let you feel me up. I have standards y'know? Maybe if you bought me dinner first, took me out dancing, connected with me on a deep emotional level, told me your name. That sort of thing."

"I could buy you dinner," he offered. "I don't dance though, or connect on emotional levels."

"Why not?"

"I would tell you but I'm afraid that might fall into the category of connecting on an emotional level."

James chuckled, saying, "Alright, this has been pleasant and all but I'm still sort of scared that you're hiding a knife in your coat or something so I'm just gonna close the door and go eat dinner."

James backed out of the daylight and back into the dark hallway but before he could do anything else, the boy had stepped into the house.

"Come in why don't you," said James dryly.

"Cheers."

There was a sudden clattering from the kitchen.

"James!" cried Angie from the other room.

"Yeah?" he called back.

"I could do with some help laying the table!"

James smirked and folded his arms.

"Hang on a mo. I'm not quite sure but I might be in a life or death situation."

The kitchen door flew open no more than three seconds later and revealed a very confused looking Angie Potter.

"What on earth are you on about?" she asked, using her hand to blow away the smoke that had followed her out of the kitchen and partially flooded the hall. "Who was at the door?"

Her question was answered, however, once the smoke cleared.

James looked from Angie to the stranger, not quite sure what to expect. Whatever it was he had predicted did not come true anyway.

"Sirius!" cried Angie with delight in her voice and her smile. "What are you doing here? I wasn't expecting you for dinner!"

The stranger, who had just been called Sirius, said, "Well you know me, Angie. I'm like the Spanish inquisition."

"And nobody expects the Spanish inquisition," she finished for him.

"Precisely."

"You need to watch less television and start interacting with people your own age," sighed Angie.

"Once they get interesting."

Angie acted as though she had not heard this comment and moved to put her arm around James.

"Have you met my nephew?" she asked.

"He has," said James, raising his eyebrows at Sirius who raised his in return.

After a moment, Sirius added, "Not properly."

"Well then, why don't you stay for dinner?" Angie inquired of Sirius.

"I've already had some."

"You didn't eat your mother's cooking did you?"

"Not since I was seven," he reassured her. "I ate at Mrs. Ludlow's."

James' eyes went from Angie and Sirius as she pressed him to at least have a bite to eat and take the chance to get to know James because, "You never know, you might like him."

For some reason, James could not shake the feeling that his aunt was arranging a play-date. Perhaps it was her determined state; perhaps it was that she had used the word 'friend' an abnormal number of times in the previous two minutes.

"James, what do you think?" asked Angie.

Finally the focus was back on him.

"What do I think about what?"

"Sirius has offered to show you around the village. You'd like that wouldn't you?"

"Erm…"

James didn't really know whether or not he'd like that. What he did know was that he would very much like to stop being treated like a five year-old. Tearing,  his gaze away from his aunt's hopeful eyes, James saw that Sirius was once again wearing his unnerving grin. A murderous smile if ever James saw one.

"Yeah," said James, still taking in the grin. "I can't see why not."

Angie fussed over the boys for a few more seconds, but it wasn't long before she had flitted back into the kitchen with a fearful, "I hope the dinner's not burnt," and left them alone in the hall once again.

"Sirius, is it?" asked James. Sirius nodded. "Sirius, can you answer me something?"

"That depends on the question."

"Has my aunt just left me to certain death?"

And then what was once unnerving shifted into something that almost resembled comforting. The grin was replaced with a chuckle and a genuine smile on Sirius' part.

"Nah," said Sirius, "I reckon you're safe from me." He began to back out of the narrow hallway, still smiling as he added, "Anyone who pisses off my brother is no enemy of mine."

* * *

 

The boys of Sowsworth rarely stopped playing football. They would take breaks only to eat, drink, sleep, flirt, and excrete. Otherwise there were having a kick-about on the green. That day was no different.

"Which team are you rooting for?" Lily asked Cas, taking a seat on the grass next to her.

Dorcas looked up and gave a small smile to Lily and an even smaller smile to the pale boy beside her. Snape didn't smile back.

"The boys going into year thirteen," she replied casually to Lily's question.

Holding back a grin, Lily prompted her, "Any reason you're not rooting for the boys in our year?"

"None that I can think of."

"Nothing to do with the fact that one Colin Macdonald is going into year thirteen and he is currently acting as a topless goalkeeper."

"Nothing to do with that."

"Really? That isn't the whole reason you're watching football? You never watch football."

"Kenneth's playing."

Severus tensed up at the mention of Kenneth but this went unnoticed by Lily who was too busy teasing Dorcas.

"What are you trying to say, Cas?" she inquired. "You fancy my boyfriend now and you're rooting for the opposing team to play hard to get? Is this what you're trying to tell me?"

"I just meant that's why you're watching."

"Not really. I like watching the boys play proper matches," said Lily with a shrug. "They're good fun. Anyway, where are the others?"

Dorcas held up three fingers and began counting them off. "Janine's got that big dinner for all the Richies, Polly's working, and Mary hates fun," she announced.

"Ah, yes, that accounts for all of them."

Dorcas giggled, asking, "Severus, aren't you invited to dine with the Richies?"

She craned her neck to see around Lily and noticed now that the outfit Snape was shifting uncomfortably in was a little too formal for watching football on the floor.

"Nice new clothes," she noted. "I suppose you are going then."

"Yes I'm going," he replied, rather sagely. "But these aren't new clothes."

"They belonged to his dad," Lily explained.

"Oh."

If Dorcas had cared to investigate the matter further she might have noticed just how nice the clothes were for hand-me-downs from a poor father, but she didn't and so she drew her attention back to the football match.

If Lily had less faith in Severus she might have investigated further, but she trusted him too much and so she allowed her eyes to find her boyfriend.

Catching his eye, Lily waved at Kenneth. He immediately waved back and grinned. Unfortunately this distraction cost him; too busy staring at his lovely girlfriend, he received a football to the stomach.

"Kenneth!" cried Lily, jumping to her feet immediately, ready to run up to him.

He hadn't fallen though, he just appeared winded. After a brief thumbs up (and a hefty groan) Kenneth returned to playing (though somewhat slower than he had been previously).

Just as Lily was about to sit down again, Severus stood up.

"I should probably go, Lily," he told her.

She stared at him, confused for a moment before remembering.

"Oh!" she said finally, "Well have fun I suppose."

It felt weird for Severus to be the one abandoning her company. Usually she was the one having to dash off. She thought that she'd be used to him having other commitments by now, but she wasn't. She knew that it was selfish of her but she comforted herself with the thought that if Sev had chosen better friends than the Richies she wouldn't have minded half as much. Why him and Kenneth couldn't get along bewildered her.

Severus nodded awkwardly, "Yeah I'll try," he said, turning to leave.

"Wait! Are we still walking to school together tomorrow?"

He shot her a confused expression.

"Lily, I don't live in the village anymore." he reminded her.

"Oh, right. Sorry. So you and your mum are up in the big houses permanently now?"

Lily tried her hardest not to sound disappointed but it was incredibly difficult.

Then a boy with glasses was at Lily's shoulder.

"Mind if I interrupt the mother's meeting?"

"We're having a conversation," said Severus sourly.

Lily gave him a polite smile, a little forced perhaps, and asked, "What is it, James?"

"I just wondered if you were busy."

"She's talking to me," said Severus.

"So sorry," said James. "I meant, busy doing something important."

Severus' left hand curled into a fist, but he put it to no use. It went unnoticed by his companions and, with the way his nails were digging into his palm, it was doing him more harm than anyone else.

"James, what do you want?" asked Lily with a hint of impatience.

"Like I said I wanted to know if you were busy."

"Why?"

He shot Severus a sideways glance and then nodded in the opposite direction, indicating that he would very much like to answer this question in privacy.

"Fine," Lily sighed before turning to Severus. "I'll be two seconds, yeah?"

Severus shook his head and said, "Don't worry. I have to leave anyway."

"Yeah, right, of course," she replied, tucking her hair behind her ear and trying to act relaxed. Trying being the operate word. Lily didn't come off as incredibly relaxed. In fact, she looked about as tense as a person could be without being a corpse. "I'll see you tomorrow at school?"

It was only when Severus was gone that Lily turned her attention to James. He was smirking.

"What?" she demanded of him.

James chuckled. "Well aren't you just full of love today?"

"Sorry," she said, shaking her head free of Severus. "What is you wanted from me?"

"Your time."

"Well, my time is very precious, James," she said impatiently. "The more I give away the less I have for myself and if I run out of time then I'm cutting my life rather short don't you think?"

"I'd have to disagree with you, Evans," said James. "Time is given to be shared is it not?"

"Which is why you were so quick out of the jumble sale the other day? You were really up to sharing your time there, weren't you?" she asked him, placing her hands on her hips as she did so.

"Oh, so you're recording my every action now are you? I'm touched."

"Alright, Potter, what do you want?"

James looked a little taken aback by this question.

"I told you what I wanted," he said. "I would very much like some of your time. I seem to recall you promising to show me around."

"I don't think I promised anything of the sort."

"Too busy remembering my every movement to even take a little notice of anything you do yourself?

"Actually, I remember exactly what I said. You asked me to show you around and I..."

"Said that you had a boyfriend," he finished for her.

"And then you said I had small boobs."

"I think there was some other stuff in between that, Evans!" cried James. "You can't skip stuff out! It makes me look like some sort of insensitive prick."

She scoffed, "How exactly would you say you came off?"

"A charming rogue?" he suggested.

"A horny git?" she countered. That made him a chuckle a bit. James did have a nice laugh, she noted, nice enough to encourage a small amount of twitching at the corners of her mouth but not nearly nice enough for her to show him so much as the post office. "You know that I'm not going to be your bloody tour-guide, Potter. Why did you really want to talk to me? Do you just get off on bothering me?"

"Oh, come on, Evans, what else would you be doing? Hanging around with that slimy haired git," said James, nodding in the direction Snape had wandered off in. "Seriously, is he going for the world record for ‘longest time gone without bathing?"

Perhaps he had gone just a little too far that time because Lily's mouth gaped at him in horror, as her eyes widened dangerously.

"You have green eyes," he said, just noticing this.

"I know I do."

"They're very pretty, Evans. You should get them out more often," he said.

James was gone before she could think of a suitable retort.

* * *

 

The Richies (as the locals referred to them) were big on dinner parties. At least once a month, all the families would get together for whiskey, wine, and sitting stiffly on expensive chairs. This month was the first in which Severus Snape was to be attending, and the first that his mother had been to for over sixteen years.

Upon arrival, Severus was dragged to a corner of the impressively large sitting room.

"Don't you look smart," Eileen Snape gushed, smoothing down the collar of her son's shirt and smiling.

"Mum, leave it alone it's fine," Severus grumbled. He looked anxiously over her shoulder to make sure that none of the others had seen. "Can I go and talk to my friends now?"

Her lips pursed. "You'll be careful won't you?" she asked, straightening his tie.

Severus jerked away, looking anywhere but at his mother.

"Stop it you're embarrassing me," he said. "They already tease me for being a mummy's boy."

He was looking over her shoulder again. Across the room he could see Mulciber and Rosier sniggering over something, and he desperately hoped that something wasn't him and his mother.

"You know, if they were really your friends they wouldn't tease you." Taking his chin between her fingers and bringing his gaze back to her face, she said seriously, "You won't forget who you are will you? Just don't get too friendly."

"You're the one who bought me the new suit," he sneered before pushing past his mother and making his way over to the other boys.

Sighing, Eileen Snape turned away from her boy and took the long walk towards her own circle.

"Eileen!" cried Katherine Mulciber, beckoning for Eileen to sit beside her on the dainty sofa. "I was just telling the girls about my plans for the new golfing club. It'll be fantastic to have one, and it’ll be such a great bonding opportunity for the children, don't you think?"

"Definitely," agreed another.

"Sorry," said Eileen, confused, "But what golfing club?"

Katherine chuckled, handing Eileen a sherry as she elaborated, "I forget that's you've been a little... out of the loop" Which was putting it lightly. "You must've heard that the Prewett’s can’t afford to keep their farm going. My husband's going to take over the lease and make it into something useful."

"Like a golfing club?"

"Exactly." Katherine smiled.

"Oh," said Eileen, taking a sip of her sherry. "How delightful."

* * *

 

Later that night, Severus spotted a mousey-haired girl in a very bright dress who happened to be exactly the girl he was looking for.

"Janine," he whispered urgently in her ear, setting a small spray of spit free as he did so.

Janine turned her face to shoot him a disgusted expression, "Please stand further away from me,  _Snape_." As though his last name were a curse word.

"I thought Lily told you to be nicer to me," he retorted, taking a step back from her nevertheless.

"I thought you had bollocks but apparently you need little ginger girls to protect you. Poor thing."

She gave an exaggerated pout before moving to sit in a vacant armchair. To her dismay, Severus followed.

Standing beside her chair awkwardly, Severus said urgently. "Has Lily spoken to you about that new boy? The git with the glasses?"

"Lily, Lily, Lily," Janine groaned, closing her eyes and lolling her head backwards. "I swear to God if you don't stop obsessing over Lily then I'll have to off myself."

"Janine, this is important," he pleaded.

She opened one eye and immediately laughed at his pained expression.

"You're really desperate aren't you? If it makes you feel better, no she hasn't mentioned him."

Severus visibly relaxed at her words.

"Oh, wait!" cried Janine, kicking her shoes off and tucking her feet under her. "Is this the complete twat?"

"Erm... I don't know."

"Well if he's the complete twat then yes she has mentioned him, but not very politely." She shrugged. "Hang on a moment! Why do you care who Lily's talking about? If you're going to try and shut her off from any interaction with the opposite sex then this might not be a good time to remind you she already has a boyfriend."

He flinched at the word 'boyfriend' but otherwise ignored it.

"Look," he said, "this new bloke seems like bad news and when I saw her last she was talking to him."

"So?"

Tired of Janine's laid back nature, Severus leaned so his face was uncomfortably close to hers.

"This is serious, Janine."

"Jesus you're pathetic," she said incredulously. "I mean, I always knew you were, but it just gets more and more apparent every day. I'd be careful if I were you, Severus, it's only so long before it becomes so apparent that even Lily can't ignore it." She giggled at the way his face was growing paler. "I bet you anything that this twat is here to poison her against you!"

Janine took immense pleasure in torturing Snape, and when he began to fume she grinned.

"What have you got against me?" he asked.

She rolled her eyes. "Listen, mate. I've been stuck with these idiots my whole life." She gestured to the room full of gossiping rich people. "You've been stuck with them for –what?- a couple of months? Let your mum settle in, let the other families prepare their awkward chitchat, and suddenly you're one of them? Not only that but I think you like being a Richie. It makes you feel powerful and in my book that makes you an idiot."

Janine didn't even bat an eyelid when Snape rose once more and stormed off.

* * *

 

Just after dinner, James Potter received a rather cryptic note slid under the front door covered in what was probably the most untidy handwriting he had ever seen.

_Mr Potter_

_Meet me by the war memorial in ten minutes_

_Tell no one of your whereabouts_

"Hey, Angie!" called James from the front door. "Where's the war memorial? Oh," remembering the last clause of the note, he added, "By the way, that's not where I'm going."

* * *

 

Humming under her breath, Lily plopped herself down cross-legged on her bed. She flicked through the pages of the magazines before her for a few moments, still humming, before she reached one that pleased her.

Her right hand left the page and fumbled for the pair of scissors beside her. Positioning them ready for cutting, sharp metal ready to tear.

And then her bedroom door flew open.

In the loud crash that came from the opening of the door, Lily's hand faltered and she managed to nip at her skin with the scissors.

Her head shot up and she saw a very flustered looking Dorcas Meadowes storming into her room.

"I need some black clothes!" cried Dorcas.

Lily was left with no time to inspect her bleeding thumb. As Dorcas started pulling things out of her drawer, Lily quickly pushed the magazines down the side of her bed in the hope that her friend hadn't noticed.

Dorcas spun around holding a grey jumper. "What are you hiding?" she asked.

"Nothing," said Lily. "What can I do for you this evening?"

"Lily, if it's porn you don't have to be ashamed."

"It's not porn."

Dorcas sighed, "Fine then, don't tell me. You're so bloody secretive sometimes."

Promptly, she turned her attention back to Lily's clothes.

"What are you doing?" Lily inquired, still cross-legged on her bed, sucking on her thumb to stop the bleeding.

"Looking for something black."

"Why?"

"For stealth or something." Dorcas shrugged. "I dunno. It's what they always do on the telly though."

"Cas."

"Yes?"

"You're not going to break into someone's house are you?"

"Of course not!" she cried. "I'm going to climb up the side of the house and knock daintily on the window."

Lily's eyes widened in shock.

"You're knocking on Colin's window I presume?"

"Of course."

"I don't think you are," said Lily.

"Why not?"

"Because it's insane."

"Well how else am I going to get him to talk to me?"

"Walk up to him in the street?" suggested Lily with a shrug.

Ignoring this, Dorcas groaned and slammed a draw shut.

"Why don't you own anything black?" she asked grumpily.

"Because black's a sad colour."

"You're a sad colour," jibed Dorcas, sticking her tongue out.

"Why don't you wear something of yours?"

Dorcas frowned at her as though it were obvious.

When Lily still looked baffled Dorcas explained, "Because I don't want to ruin my clothes climbing walls."

"Cas, can you not hear yourself? Anything that involves climbing walls has to be a bad idea."

"Where's your sense of adventure?" she exclaimed, moving to rummage through the make-up that was strewn atop Lily's dresser.

"What are you looking for now?"

"Lipstick," she said. "If I'm not going to be stealthy then I should at least look nice."

"There's some right there."

"Where?"

"Right under your noise," said Lily.

"It's  _peach,_ " sneered Dorcas, as though the word tasted bad in her mouth.

"What's wrong with peach?"

"Peaches look like hairy bums."

"That's ridiculous."

"Besides," continued Dorcas, unabashed, "I want red."

"Cas, when have you ever seen me wear red lipstick? Are you forgetting that I am oh so incredibly ginger."

Dorcas let out an overdramatic sigh and slid down onto the carpet. There, she remained silent for a few moments, which was never a good sign.

"Are you alright?" asked Lily, sliding off of her bed to sit opposite her on the floor.

"I was so stupid to think that an older bloke would be interested in a girl like me," she whimpered, hiding her face in her knees, her mass of blonde hair falling to cover her face entirely.

"Oh, Cas!" Lily cooed. "What are you talking about? He said you were better looking than Maureen Baddock and you've seen her."

"Yeah," she said in a small voice. "Her boobs are massive."

"Exactly."

Raising her face, Dorcas nodded slowly and blinked very quickly. For a second Lily thought she might cry and panicked, only having seen Dorcas cry a couple of times during the course of their five year friendship and didn’t feel particularly prepared to deal with it.

"How did you get Kenneth to like you?" she asked, coughing her usual confidence back into existence.

"Well," said Lily, fiddling with her skirt so that she didn't have to look directly at her friend. "He sort of pursued me."

Dorcas grinned.

"Yeah, of course he did."

"What do you mean?" asked Lily cautiously.

Dorcas just smiled back at her.

* * *

 

James wasn’t surprised when he was who was waiting for him at the war memorial.

"I was hoping for a nice-looking bird," said James, smirking at the shadowy figure leaning against a large stone pyramid who replied, "Well at least I'm nice-looking."

"Sirius Black, right?" asked James, taking the final few steps that brought the figure into light.

Sirius nodded in response, the corners of his mouth twitching slightly. "Glad I made such an impression."

"Well, it's hard to forget when a dashing stranger turns up on your doorstep."

"You'll make me blush," said Sirius, his handsome face showing no indication of changing colour.

Shaking his head, James glanced at the stone pyramid once more. "I suppose that's the war memorial then?" he asked. "Either that or I've made a grave mistake and am in fact supposed to be meeting with a pretty girl. It would make sense. I wouldn't take you for a note-writer."

Sirius scowled.

"Notes are exceptionally useful and tragically undervalued," he said.

Before James could even being to formulate a possible response to this, Sirius shifted his weight from the war memorial back into his heavy boots. And then he was walking away, leaving James behind. After a moment, he glanced back over his shoulder at James.

"Are you coming or what?" asked Sirius.

It took seconds for James to catch up, barely glancing at the area Sirius' arse had just vacated, the words etched onto the memorial blurring as he jogged past:

‘THE GLORIOUS DEAD. THEIR NAME LIVETH.’

"Where are you taking me?"

"What did I tell you about asking questions?" said Sirius, taking the time to stop and sigh.

James raised an eyebrow. This Sirius Black was rather odd, he thought. Nobody enjoyed a good show as much as James did but the lengths to which this bloke was going to remain mysterious were ridiculous. He had already led him through what felt like thirty acres of wood, only to meet a small hill.

"You know," said James once they were climbing once more, "for my own peace of mind can you promise me that this isn't your murder hill."

Sirius just chuckled.

They were at the top before James saw the well.

"Oh God," he breathed. "I'm going to die in a well."

Ignoring this comment, Sirius strolled over to said well and began to pull on the rope that James was surprised was still pullable. The well looked incredibly old. Common sense told James that Sirius could not possibly pull anything of value out of that well, and that served only as further evidence that James' common sense should be ignored at all times: a few seconds later Sirius was pulling out two very expensive-looking bottles of amber liquid.

"Whiskey?" said James.

"Whiskey!"

"Whiskey!"

In fairness to them, it was a better battle cry than most other teenage boys could come up with.

A few sips later they were both sitting on the wall of the well, passing one of the bottles between them.

"Why did you bring me here?" asked James, squinting in the darkness to try and make out the shapes moving between the trees.

"Because this is where I come to get away from my brother and his twatty friends." Sirius took a rather large swig of whiskey and handed it to James. "Well, them and everyone else. Y'know you're exceptionally lucky."

"Why's that then?"

"You're the only adolescent in this shithole of a village that has yet to piss me off," he said.

"Cheers."

"No problem."

They took another swig each, holding their liquor better than most other teenage boys would have, neither of them throwing up after two thirds of one bottle had gone. Their bladders, on the other hand, were not all that skilled at holding the liquor.

"I need to piss," announced James.

"Lovely."

"Do you think it would contaminate the well if I pissed down it?"

James glanced over his shoulder and down into the depths of the well.

"I will make this my murder hill if you contaminate my whiskey well," said Sirius.

James made a face but his trousers remained zipped nonetheless.

"Why do you have a whiskey well?" he asked.

"Because my dad will find out I'm stealing from him if I hide it in my room."

"Why?"

"Because my mum cleans my room."

James frowned. Something seemed wrong about that picture.

"You don't seem like the type to care what your parents think," he said.

"I despise my parents," said Sirius coolly. "But the thing is that they've promised to buy me a motorbike for Christmas if I behave myself."

This seemed like a reasonable enough reason to hide whiskey down a well so James didn't query it.

"I need a bush," said James, having decided once and for all to not piss down the well.

"Then go and find one!"

He didn't need much encouragement. I cannot emphasise enough the intensity with which James' bladder needed voiding. Luckily, there was a bush not far off.

"I've found one!" cried James. Sirius gave him a thumbs up from where he was still sitting on the well, but James didn't see this because he was pissing into a bush.

 That's when he saw it: an animal moving in the shadows.

No, that was a human face.

James' eyes met the wide and worried ones in the bush.

"Hello," greeted James with a grin. "I don't think we've actually been properly introduced. I'm James Potter and this is my penis."

The person in the bush was then welcomed into James Potter's acquaintanceship with a gratuitous splash. Needless the say that they jumped up immediately, yelping and sneering all at once.

"Who the hell are you talking to?" asked Sirius, joining James just as he had zipped up his trousers.

Sirius recognised the person in the bush at once: "Snape!" he cried. "What the hell are you doing in the bushes?"

A slightly soaked Severus Snape stumbled out into the open.

"I was just walking, Black, what's it to you?" he asked. Then he turned to James and practically screeched, "Look what you've done to me!"

Sirius looked from the splash marks on Severus' suit to James' crotch, and then back to the splash marks.

"Hang on," he said slowly. "Is that what I think it is?"

"I am ninety-nine percent sure that it's my piss," said James.

Severus was seething.

"You'll have to pay for this!" he cried, tearing the spoilt suit jacket off of his body and brandishing it angrily.

"Before anyone pays for anything I think we first need an explanation of what the fuck you were doing in the bushes." snapped Sirius.

Severus tore his glare from James and met Sirius'.

"You were spying, weren't you?" said Sirius. "You slimy little git! Were you bribed by my mother to check up on me?"

"I'm not here for you, Black!" spat Severus.

That was when they both turned to James.

"What did I do?"

"Stay away from Lily Evans!" cried Severus.

The corners of James' mouth twitched.

"Or what?" he asked, taunting.

"Or you'll be sorry."

"Is that a threat?" James took a step closer to Severus. "Are you threatening me?"

"Yes!"

Nodding slowly, James swallowed.

"You know what," he said after some time. "I reckon I might've spoilt that suit of yours for good. How would you like me to make it up to you?"

Severus' mouth hung open a little, halfway between thought and speech, still clutching his jacket.

"How about," continued James, "I take it off of your hands!"

And with a shared glance between Sirius and James, Severus was left alone at the top of the hill, no longer holding a suit jacket.

"Black! Potter!" he fumed, chasing after the laughing boys. "I'm going to kill you both!"

* * *

 

The Evans' household was all too familiar with sulking teenage girls to even bat an eyelid at the sour-faced Dorcas Meadowes in the living room.

"Is Dorcas staying the night?" called Mrs. Evans from the kitchen.

Lily, who was sitting next to said Dorcas on the sofa, replied, "Yes, mum!" before promptly returning her attention to her sad friend. "Cheer up, Cas. We'll have fun! I'll even let you kick Brutus out of my room. You love doing that!"

"Your cat is evil."

Lily narrowed her eyes.

"My cat is beautiful. Anyway, we'll have loads of fun. We can watch Monty Python and make fun of people and absolutely not scale any walls!"

"Who can we make fun of?" asked Dorcas, brightening up.

"Anyone you want!"

Lily draped her arm around her Dorcas and allowed her head to rest on her shoulder.

"Mary's getting a bit chubby," said Dorcas hopefully.

"She's growing breasts not putting on weight!"

Before Dorcas could argue that growing breasts counted as putting on weight, there was a knock on the door.

"Who's knocking this late?" Dorcas demanded.

To answer the question, Lily had to hop off of her sofa, go into the hallway, and actually open the front door.

"Severus?" said Lily. "What are you doing here? And why are you so out of breath?"

* * *

 

There is nothing quite like the unquestionable smell of piss in the early morning. This fact was made clear to James as he clutched the stained clothing. He could feel the sweat from his hand mixing with what he had to keep reminding himself was  _his_  urine. Not that he particularly wanted to touch his own urine, especially not in this sober state of mind, but he could hardly just leave it to fester in his bedroom.

It did not take long for James to make his way across the road to his destination. Once he reached the dustbin, he was all set to dispose of the offending object when a voice interrupted him.

"James Potter!" cried Lily Evans, spotting him from across the green and rushing over to scold him.

"Morning, Evans," said James with a grin, in spite of the piss soaked fabric he was holding.

"Don't you try to smile your way out of this! I know what you did to Severus! That suit belonged to his father!"

This was a new level of angry that James had not witnessed. It scared him a little.

"How'd you find that out?" he asked.

"He told me for one," she snapped, not in the mood for letting James dance around the point as he usually did. "He knocked on my door last night in right state!"

"I don't think it's fair that you're just taking his word for it," said James.

Lily raised an eyebrow and glanced at the scrunched up jacket in his right hand.

"Alright, it does seem you've caught me with my figurative trousers down."

Scowling disapprovingly, she snatched the jacket from his clutches.

"Erm, Evans, you know that is covered in my urine," he warned, watching the red-head inspect the jacket.

She wasn't listening.

"Oh God," breathed Lily, freezing. "Oh God."

James just stared at her, not sure what to say or how to relieve the tension. He certainly wasn't going to apologise for her disgust when she had known what she was grabbing when she had grabbed it. He hadn’t asked for her to touch his piss.

Just when he was going to relate all of those thoughts to her, James noticed something which made him realise Lily’s sudden silence was not because of him. Even James wasn't self-centred enough to speculate that the tears welling up in Lily's eyes were his fault.

"Evans, what's the matter?" he asked, concerned.

She shook her head, still staring at that same spot on the inside of the jacket.

Finally, she said, "he told me that this was his dad's."

"Sorry?"

Blinking away the tears, Lily laughed bitterly and said, "The stupid git left the label in." She threw the jacket back to James who caught it against his chest. "Keep the bloody jacket. You stole it fair and square, and it's really expensive so enjoy."

Lily turned away from James and began the walk to school, feeling, in stark contradiction from how she thought she would feel, happy to be making the journey without Severus.

 


	4. The Leader of the Opposition

**Chapter Four: The Leader of the Opposition**

Lily thought that Mr Binns was probably the only man in the world who could make the Blitz sound about as interesting as the life cycle of a fruit fly.

This was a problem because he had opted to devote his life to teaching History and therefore nobody learnt anything. They were too busy doodling or dozing or, because he never noticed, talking.

As the noise level grew and Lily tried to keep her focus on the bombing of London, she thought that there should be a law against boring people being allowed to teach. If these people really cared about educating, they would stay out of it.

The more Mr Binns drolled on the more Lily felt her eyelids grow heavier and the more Kenneth's shoulder beside her grew in appeal as a pillow. She'd been up late consoling Severus and having her head filled with complaint after complaint about James Potter. Such things tire a young girl out.

Finally caving in, Lily allowed her eyes to close and the memories of the night before wash over her. Severus' voice rang in her ears: "That bloody Potter is the biggest git on the face of the earth. His arrogant smirk needs to be wiped off of his stupid face. He can't just swagger around like he owns the place."

After an hour or two of this only one conclusion was to be drawn: James Potter was a complete and utter bastard.

No, that wouldn't do, thinking of James Potter was not good for her. It reminded her of Severus and she was angry with Severus for lying to her. She was also angry at James for what he had done to Severus the night before and how he had behaved that morning. Or, rather, how he’d behaved from the moment he’d set foot in Sowsworth.

Just when she had decided to open her eyes once more and focus them on Mr Binns, distracting herself from her own unpleasant thoughts, the star of them entered the room. Clearly determined to be the star of the classroom as well, he made as much noise as possible upon entry. So much noise, in fact, that even Mr Binns looked up when the door slammed behind him.

"Sorry I'm late, sir," said James Potter, his smirk not looking particularly apologetic.

When Mr Binns only stared back at him with confusion, James elaborated, "I was going to be on time but then  _someone_ " (he glanced at Lily when he said this) "threw a soiled jacket at my chest and I had to go home and change my t-shirt."

Lily couldn't help but flush a little at this. Luckily, almost everyone was still too transfixed on the front of the classroom to notice her embarrassment.

Everyone except for Kenneth.

In response to her boyfriend's questioning look, Lily scribbled the words, "I'll explain later," on a piece of paper and pushed it across the desk so he could read.

A moment later he looked up at her and mouthed something in response. Lily didn't know what it was Kenneth was trying to say, however, as her talent for lip-reading was practically non-existent.

Kenneth raised his eyebrows at her curiously, to which she shook her head indicating that she didn't understand. Eventually he pushed her piece of paper back under her nose. On it he had scribbled simply a question mark.

Lily was one of the first out of the classroom. She had a mission for the three hours or so she had between History and her next lesson, and was keen to start early. The only problem was that her overwhelming curiosity forced her to wait just outside the classroom until her boyfriend appeared and she could ask him what he had mouthed to her in the lesson. Unfortunately for Lily, James Potter had managed to vacate the class much earlier than Kenneth.

"Morning, Evans," James greeted, moving across the hall to stand beside her.

Lily refused to meet his eye as she said with contempt, "We've seen each other already this morning, James."

The urine stained and all too expensive suit jacket sat rotting in the corner of her mind.

"True, but I'm wearing a different t-shirt now. It's like I'm a new man altogether so I thought it'd be polite to say hello to you again."

"Were you born like this?" said Lily, giving him an exasperated look.

"Handsome?"

"Insufferable."

James grinned.

"Why are you smiling?" she asked cautiously.

He gave a little shrug, not taking his eyes off of her as he said, "Would you rather I frowned?" With that he furrowed his brow and pushed his lips forward into a pout.

Somehow Lily had found herself in some sort of staring match with James Potter and, determined not to have him comment about her staring at him again, tore her eyes away. When she looked past James, she noticed that Kenneth was out of the lesson. She didn't know how long he'd been out, but it was long enough for him to have taken a leaning position against the wall opposite her. His arms were folded and his eyes were narrowed.

"Kenneth!" cried Lily, careful not to allow any part of her brush against James as she made her way over to Kenneth.

Her presence did not cause Kenneth to unfold his arms or widen his eyes. He appeared to be glaring at James, and James had noticed.

"Kenneth?" Lily repeated.

"Sorry?" he asked, coming out of what appeared to be a state of reverence. "Lily!" He smiled at her. "I didn't see you there."

She frowned, confused. "I was waiting for you to come out of the classroom... What are you staring at?"

His eyes had once again wandered over to James Potter, who was making rather a show of emptying the entire contents of his bag in an apparent search for something.

Kenneth shook his head.

"Sorry, just distracted," he said. "I'm not used to getting up this early."

She nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, I'm knackered. Severus kept me up all night."

Lily heard James choke at her words from across the hall. It was only then that she realised how sexual that had sounded and found it difficult not to crack a smile.

"Oh?" asked Kenneth, oblivious to any innuendos or subtle laughter occurring around him. "Another argument with his mother?"

From where she was standing she heard James mutter, "Of course he’s a mummy's boy."

Lily's mouth twitched a little as she added yet another point to her mental list of things she knew for certain about this Potter bloke: 1) his eyesight was lacking somewhat 2) he was annoying beyond belief 3) he was possibly incontinent, and 4) he was impossibly indiscrete.

"Lily?"

She looked up at Kenneth who was looking down at her curiously.

"Yes?" she asked, confused.

"I asked you a question," he said.

"Oh!" cried Lily. "That reminds me of why I was waiting for you!"

"Because you love spending time with me?" Kenneth suggested.

"I wanted to know what you were trying to ask me in History."

Before Kenneth could distort his already confused face further into confusion, James Potter interrupted the couple.

"Excuse me," he said, standing between the two. "Sorry to bother you but I was just over there," he pointed across the hall, "Trying to eavesdrop on your conversation and I couldn't help but notice how terribly painful it was."

Lily glared up at James, but he continued, "Anyway I was wondering if you two had considered a translator or something because I can't see how his relationship is going to pan out with you two speaking such different languages."

"Sorry," said Kenneth, frowning, "but what on earth are you on about?"

James looked from Kenneth, to Lily, to Kenneth, to Lily, and back to Kenneth.

"Forget it," said James. "You two are giving me menstrual cramps."

He began to swagger off, but Kenneth called him back.

"Yes?" said James.

"What's your name?"

"James Potter. You?"

"Kenneth Pritchard."

"A pleasure to meet you, Kenny."

James held out his hand and gave Kenneth a cordial nod.

Kenneth shook James' extended hand, but asked, "Who's Kenny?"

James looked to Lily for support but she was, unsurprisingly, on Kenneth's side.

"People don't call him Kenny," she said.

"Then what do they call you?" James asked Kenneth, looking him up and down and smirking at the fact he was taller.

"Kenneth."

"Well that's inventive," said James dryly.

"What do they call you?" he asked.

"Magnificent."

"Interesting," said Kenneth.

"Yeah sometimes they call me Interesting as well." James winked at Lily. "But mostly Magnificent."

As Lily's eyes flickered between James Potter and her boyfriend, she couldn't help but notice the obvious difference between them. Nobody could say they looked similar. Aside from the long noses, James and Kenneth could not have looked less alike. Where James was tall and thin, Kenneth was middling in height and broad in shoulder. Where James' hair was dark and messy, Kenneth's was fair and flat. Where James' eyes were obscured by the rectangular frames of his glasses, Kenneth's were obscured, more often than not, by his very straight, very flat fringe.

"Lily," said Kenneth.

"Yeah?"

"Didn't you have something to do at break?"

And thus Lily's mind was sent back to a moment five minutes earlier, back when she was the first person out of History.

"Oh, shit!" she cried, and pelted down the corridor. Then, halfway down the corridor, she spun around and headed back towards the two boys.

"Forget something?" said James, raising his eyebrows.

"Yep!" answered Lily.

Lily hopped up onto her tip toes and planted a short kiss on Kenneth's lips. This caused James to make a face that would not look out of place expelling vomit off the side of a ferry.

"You finish last today?" asked Lily, trying very hard not to meet James' eye (who was refusing to move or look away from her over Kenneth's shoulder).

"I do," said Kenneth. "Do you?"

Lily nodded and began to back away. "I do. Come to mine after school?" Before Kenneth could respond Lily was sprinting away. "I might be back in time for lunch!" she called over her shoulder. Then she was gone.

"What was your name again?" asked Kenneth, turning to face him. "Other than Magnificent, of course?"

James chuckled and simply said, "See you around, Kenny."

* * *

 

"Thank God for that!"

Dorcas Meadowes had been worried that morning. She had been filled with concern ever since Janine had uttered those dreaded words, "Cas, I don't have Maths today so we won't be in the same class."

Dorcas could have sworn her heart had nearly stopped.

People who did Maths were not the sort of people she wanted to get to know. The trouble was that she did Maths, and she would be on her own, and she couldn't feasibly stop talking. Dorcas would be forced to talk to someone wholly undesirable like a Richie or boys with fully fledged stationary kits. Either way, it wouldn't be pleasant.

That was, until she spotted Remus Lupin, and exclaimed, "Thank God for that."

Miss Vector gave her a sharp look for shouting, but Dorcas was too busy throwing her bag down on the floor and herself down in the chair beside Remus.

While she wasn't exactly 'friends' with Remus, she thought he seemed nice enough. He might not have been her type (being the same age as her and not desired, to her knowledge, but any of the other girls in the year), but she thought he looked like a good listener. Dorcas had always revered the ability to listen well. Well, in others. She was bound by no such reverence. Dorcas had almost certainly been born to be listened to.

"Are you alright?" asked Remus, frowning at her flustered face.

"I was so worried!" she cried. Dorcas unpacked her things in a rather aggressive manner, almost sending her pencil case off the other side of the desk. "You don't mind if I sit here do you?"

Remus said that she could, although really he didn’t have much choice in the matter.

"So I've had a dreadful morning," Dorcas sighed, beginning to recount her story about Colin only with the addition that he’d walked away from her that morning in the corridor when she tried to say hello.

Just when he thought he better start digesting the idea of sitting next to Dorcas Meadowes for a whole year in Maths, someone took the empty chair on his other side.

"Mind if I sit here?" asked James Potter, following Dorcas' tactic of sitting before asking.

In any case, Remus was glad for the distraction, although really he had no choice in this either.

James Potter did not have a pencil case to fling across the table. In fact it seemed all he’d thought to bring were a couple of pieces of scrap paper.

"Oi, you don't have a pen do you?"

"Wouldn't you rather a pencil?" asked Remus, handing over the pen he was using (embarrassed at how chewed the end was). "You can't use a pen for Maths."

James clicked the pen dramatically and stared back at Remus, smirking as he did so.

"You haven't brought any stationary at all?" asked Remus, aghast, looking over at James' side of the desk once more for confirmation. "Not even a ruler?"

"My mind is an endless source of utility," said James.

Remus snorted, "I'd like to see you draw a straight line with it."

Dorcas was still talking, either unaware or not bothered that nobody was listening.

If Remus had hoped that James' presence would decrease the time he spent listening to Dorcas, he was mistaken.

"False," said James, slamming his hand down on the table.

"Excuse me?" asked Dorcas, who had just finished relaying the penis story and the subsequent times she tried to speak to Colin. "What do you mean false?"

"Your story makes no sense," James explained.

"Well that's not news," said Remus from in between the two.

Dorcas ignored this and continued to badger James.

"How does it not make sense?" she said.

"Well you said he whipped 'it' out?"

"Yes."

"And then you laughed?"

"Correct."

"And now he won't talk to you?"

"Not one word."

"Your story cannot be true," said James matter-of-factly, leaning back in his chair (he had not written anything down all lesson) "If he’d done that then he’d be scrambling for your attention, trying to make sure there’s no bad blood between the two of you."

"Do you know this from personal experience?" mocked Remus.

"All I'm saying is that no bloke gives up on a girl that easily. You know I'm right," said James, looking past Remus and directly into Dorcas' big blue eyes. "Your story just doesn't make sense."

"But-," she tried.

"You know I'm right," he repeated. "Now if he really is ignoring you there can only be one reason: he doesn't want to talk to you so leave him and his supposedly exposed genitals alone."

Silence followed.

Remus kept looking nervously at Dorcas, a little terrified that she might suddenly burst into tears. James spent the rest of the lesson doodling lions on the table with Remus' pen.

As soon as Miss Vector dismissed them, Dorcas was up and out of her seat, not glancing back. Remus packed steadily, in no real rush to get to lunch. When he got to his feet, he noticed James was waiting by the door.

"Come to lunch with me?" he asked.

Remus bit down on his lip to suppress a grin and nodded in concession.

* * *

 

Dorcas remained sullen when she went to meet Mary outside of her German class.

"I see we're celebrating freedom from uniform by wearing an unfathomably short skirt," teased Mary.

Dorcas Meadowes was indeed wearing a terribly short skirt for such a chilly day, and so Mary Macdonald was not wrong in her observation. However, it seemed that Dorcas was in no mood to be teased.

"Cheer up," said Mary, nudging her friend as they made their way to the common room.

The common room was one of the benefits of being in sixth-form. It was painted a cold blue and filled with furniture that had been deemed too old and dirty for the teacher’s lounge. Polly and Janine were already there, sitting on a yellow sofa that had undoubtedly originally been white.

"Cas, what's wrong with your face?" cried Janine. "You look more miserable than Mary."

Polly, beside her, laughed nervously.

Mary didn't retaliate to Janine's jibe. She rarely did.

"I'm fine," said Dorcas coolly. "I just didn't understand anything in Maths."

"You always understand Maths," said Polly.

Everyone ignored this as Polly was the sort of person it was very easy to ignore. Due to this, Dorcas' excuse passed for the moment.

* * *

 

Remus did have to admit (not verbally of course) that James Potter was interesting.

"I hate tomatoes," said James, looking at his sandwich with immense disgust.

Well, he was far more interesting than any of the other boys he had encountered in Sowsworth at any rate.

Unaware of the lunchtime etiquette at St. Albus’, James had decided to pull his sandwich out and start eating them in the middle of the corridor.

"I'll have to remind Angie that tomatoes are evil. Anyway, enough about my escapades at Birdworld," said James. "How are you? What escapades can you tell me about? Ever jousted with a Flamingo?"

Before Remus could respond, the boys were interrupted.

"James Potter," Sirius greeted, nodding his head slightly as he did so.

"You know Sirius?" asked Remus.

"Hello, Sirius. Did you just bow to me?" said James, ignoring Remus.

"No."

"I think you did," said Remus.

"Do you, Wheezer?" Remus' eyes narrowed at Sirius' words. "Are you sure about that? You weren't too busy coughing to notice?"

"Your hilarity knows no bounds."

James raised an eyebrow in confusion, but decided this was a private matter and said nothing. Instead he folded his arms, getting comfortable for the fight he hoped would ensue.

"This is why you don't have any friends," said Sirius. "People are just so in awe of your cutting wit and sarcasm that they're intimidated."

Remus retorted, "No I just think I’m too good for everyone. Oh, wait a second, that’s you."

"Just because I'm better than everyone else here doesn't mean you can judge me," said Sirius.

James couldn't help but chime in, "So you two are really close then?"

He was met with glares from both of them.

"Potter, why are you hanging around with Wheezer?" asked Sirius, moving away from Remus and towards James.

Remus watched Sirius take his place beside James but didn't say anything.

"Why shouldn't I hang around with him?" said James defiantly.

Sirius let out a bark of laughter.

After James looked at him questioningly, Remus muttered, "I told you hanging around with me wouldn't do you any favours."

James noticed just how weary Remus looked.

"I'm being dead serious now," said James, unfolding his arms. "What has Remus done that's got everyone avoiding him like the plague?"

In response, Sirius mimicked a coughing fit. Apparently this was an adequate explanation because when he was finished, Sirius looked rather pleased with himself and Remus looked worse off.

Turning to James, Remus asked, "You aren't seriously mates with Black are you?" James' silence on the subject confirmed it to be true. "It's just as well I suppose. I said I wasn't a very good friend."

James looked apologetic enough, but it was hard to believe with Sirius looking smug beside him.

"I don't know him that well," said James defensively.

Sirius pursed his lips at the comment, but Remus was calmed by it. Just when James thought that he had brought some peace, everything turned to shit again.

"How are you feeling, Sirius?" asked Remus; having regained a little confidence he even smiled. "The coughing fit didn't mess up your hair too much, did it?"

Sirius rolled his eyes, unaffected by any and all comments towards his hair which in fact was just naturally fantastic.

"I don't know what's more offensive about that comment; the rude content or the terrible quality," said Sirius.

* * *

 

Lily made it back for the second half of lunch. Assuming (correctly) that Kenneth would be playing football, she went directly to find her friends in the common room.

"What's in there?" asked Mary, referring to the cardboard box in Lily's arms which, judging by the volume of Lily's groan upon placing the box on a nearby table, was rather heavy.

"The newsletters," she explained. "I just collected these from Angie."

Lily opened the box to reveal at least a hundred black and white newsletters. The top page read: "Save The Prewett Farm"

"Where's Cas?" asked Lily. "It's her bloody newsletter!"

"With your bloody political agenda," breathed Janine.

Polly took a newsletter and started the read from it, "Don't let our community die."

"I wrote that bit!" said Lily with a smile.

"What a surprise," said Janine.

Lily pretended she hadn't heard and asked once more, "Where's Cas?"

"She went to the toilets about ten minutes ago and hasn't come back yet," said Janine.

Polly giggled.

Polly giggled a lot, especially when she didn't understand what the others were talking about, which was often.

"Has Fabian seen these yet?" asked Mary of the newsletters.

"Not yet," said Lily. "Is something wrong with Cas?

Mary shot her a meaningful look.

"Right," said Lily. "I'm going to find her. Would you mind handing a few of these out?" She gestured to the box before running off.

Janine didn't take a single newsletter.

* * *

 

James discovered that Remus and Sirius, though not well acquainted, could not be within ten feet of each other without a major disagreement over something arising. Obviously two people so different in disposition and background were not going to get on well. Not in this bloody village at any rate.

"Alright," said James through gritted teeth, looking from Sirius to Remus. "As entertaining as it is to watch you two try and tear each other's throats out, it's getting to the point where someone should really leave."

Sirius rolled his eyes.

"Now, I'd leave myself," James continued, "But for some reason I'm concerned about both of your health and I don't trust you two alone together."

"So what? We flip a coin?" said Remus bitterly. "Do you know what a coin is?" he asked Sirius. "Or have you only ever seen money in paper form?"

With a smug grin, Sirius pulled a two pence piece from the pocket of his black jeans.

"This is ridiculous," snapped Remus.

"Yeah we're not flipping for who gets to stay," said James.

"What I mean is that I'm not going to compete for your friendship," said Remus, looking at James. "Sorry but I'm not that desperate. Not yet."

Sirius laughed, "Wow that almost sounded like self-respect for a moment."

James and Remus both shot him a glare.

"You know what," said James. "I don't understand what you two have against each other! You both seem like decent people to me."

"James Potter, you are an absolute twat!"

The three boys all turned to see an angry ginger girl storming down the corridor towards them.

"Shit," said Sirius. "Evans is pissed."

Once Lily had reached them, she slapped James on the shoulder sternly.

"Hi, Lily," greeted Remus warmly.

"Hi, Remus," replied Lily politely, her eyes remaining on James the whole time, demanding of him, "What have you got to say for yourself?"

James was thoroughly confused by this question.

"I'm sorry," he said, "but I have no idea what I've done wrong this time."

"You made Dorcas cry!"

"Who's Dorcas?"

Lily’s jaw clenched dangerously.

Remus leaned forwards to explain, "She's the blonde in our Maths."

"Oh, the one who lied about that bloke’s penis," said James.

Lily didn't disagree with this description. Instead she took a step closer to James.

"You are an unimaginable git, you know that!" she said. "I honestly don't know if you've ever thought about the consequences of your actions. You can't just say and do what you like and expect people to just take it on the chin! Here take one of these."

Lily held up her right hand, which was clutching several sheets of paper with black and white print.

"What's this?" asked James, taking one from her.

"A newsletter about the Prewett Farm," Lily explained. "And just so you know, James, you're starting to really get on my nerves. I've tried giving you the benefit of the doubt, but I just don't think you deserve it."

"What about the Prewett Farm?" Sirius interrupted.

"Surely you must know," said Lily. "Your parents never mentioned anything about a golf course?"

"I don't listen to my parents even when they do talk to me."

"Oh."

"So what's this all about?" he pressed.

Lily began to explain, "The Prewetts can't afford to keep going so the Richies are going to buy out their lease and turn it into a golf course. I sort of commandeered Cas' newsletter to get the word out because I reckon we have to save it. For one thing, we can't let the Richies take over any more of our village. Furthermore, we can't let such a beloved and hard-working family like the Prewetts be cast out on their arses. Another thing, it would be wrong to have-"

"Alright spare me the essay now. I'll read it later," said Sirius, holding out his hand for a newsletter. Remus looked at him suspiciously as Lily handed him one. Sirius shrugged and said simply, "All the cool kids side with the working class."

Remus took a newsletter for himself, thanking Lily as he did so, before he walked off.

"Good riddance," muttered Sirius.

It took a moment for James to make the decision, but he went after Remus. He didn't find him due to the fact that he didn't have a clue where anything was yet. Suffice to say, Sirius was none too pleased at being left behind and stormed off, past Lily, in the opposite direction.

Lily was sufficiently confused at this bizarre interaction, but was far too concerned about Dorcas crying in the girl’s toilets to give it much thought.

* * *

 

Ten minutes later, Lily entered French class, her last lesson of the day, quite contently. She picked a seat on an empty table of four, placed her bag on the desk, and entertained herself with tapping out a tune with her fingers.

It was an unforeseen unfortunate turn of events that James Potter would sit beside her.

"Evans, we meet again," he said with a grin.

"James, I'm not in the mood for your nonsense."

He clutched his chest and exclaimed, "Lily Evans! I am but a simple boy, a stranger to this land. I know only a handful of people. Are you really going to deny me the joy of sitting next to one of the few people I've spoken to before?"

"I'm just trying to help you make new friends," said Lily.

"How inconsiderate of you," he replied. "You know I'm painfully shy."

She couldn’t help but smile at his joke, but luckily, something else caught had James' attention and he didn’t notice.

"Remus!" cried James, noticing the boy enter the classroom. "Come sit here."

The sincerity of this request won Remus over. That, and the fact that nobody ever really asked Remus to sit with them.

Lily used this distraction as an opportunity to stand up, and sling her bag over her shoulder.

"Where are you going?" asked Remus.

"Sorry, Remus, but I can't sit next to this idiot all year. I'm moving tables," she said.

At that moment, inconveniently, Miss Babbling entered the room appearing, very flustered.

"I'm so sorry I'm late, class!" she said through heavy breaths, scrambling for a piece of chalk. "Miss Evans, please sit down."

Lily was forced to sit back down again beside James Potter.

James whispered, "You've not had much practice in dramatic exits, have you?"

"Now," Miss Babbling spoke in a loud voice. "I'm going to spend the first few weeks going over the grammar you learnt last year- Mr. Black you are late."

Everyone turned to see Sirius leaning against the doorframe. "So sorry, Miss," he said insincerely.

"Take a seat then!" she snapped impatiently.

It was inevitable really. There was no point in hoping otherwise. Sirius would do as Sirius would do, and Sirius would take the seat beside Remus.

After about ten minutes of teaching, Miss Babbling set them off to work as groups on matching French words to tenses.

Their table was quiet. Not even James had anything to say.

"Well this is romantic," said Sirius, breaking the silence. "It's like a reunion from half an hour ago in the hall."

* * *

 

Having spent the past hour dreaming of the end of French and being able to escape from the horrors of James Potter(who had spent his past hour trying to tell Lily she had small breasts in French) Lily was none too amused when he began to walk home in the same direction as her, right behind her from the classroom to the front gate.

She tried to ignore how close he was on her heels, telling herself that his way home was, by circumstance of location, the same way as hers. They both lived in the village and so they would naturally exit the school the same way.

What was unnatural was someone else's presence by the front gate; Severus didn't live in the village anymore.

"Hi, Lily," said Severus, falling into step beside her as she passed.

"Shouldn't you be going 'round the back and up the lane with the rest of the Richies?" she asked, not quite meeting his eye.

That jacket hadn’t been forgotten.

"I thought I could walk you home," he said tentatively.

"I'm really sorry, Sev," she lied. "I promised Kenneth I'd walk with him. I'll talk to you later though, okay?"

It was evident in Severus' face that this was not okay, but Lily had already given him a quick squeeze on the arm in parting and walked through the front gate. She didn't look back. If she had, she'd have seen James Potter stick his foot out in deliberate sabotage. She'd have also seen Severus lose his balance and almost crash to the floor.

But she didn't look back.

* * *

 

Kenneth was late, but then again he always was. One of the main similarities between Kenneth Pritchard and Lily Evans was the ease with which they were distracted. You could be having a lengthy and enjoyable conversation with Lily about the ethics of a minimum wage and suddenly find yourself abandoned for a bowl of soup or a butterfly. In much the same way, you could be spilling your heart out to Kenneth but find yourself talking to empty space if he were to catch a glimpse of a football.

Lily assumed that Kenneth was late for football related reasons and, knowing that he would show up eventually, was not bothered by this. Instead she thought she would use her spare time to retrieve those magazines from beneath her bed, along with a notebook already thick with glue and cuttings.

"Sorry I'm late," said Kenneth, sticking his head around Lily's door. She'd heard her mum let her in so she'd already hidden the notebook and magazines away.

"No worries," she said, leaning over to kiss him as he sat down on the bed beside her. "Hey, you don't happen to remember what it was you were asking me in History this morning, do you?"

Kenneth frowned slightly. "I'm not sure. Why?"

"I'm terribly terribly curious."

"Ah, well then." He grinned. "I don't know exactly. Do you remember what the question was about?"

"The new boy," she said, as she wasn't entirely sure if Kenneth actually knew James' name yet.

Chewing the inside of his mouth in contemplation, Kenneth racked his brains for Lily. Until, finally, he remembered.

"Oh yeah," he cried. "I wanted to know if he was any good at football."

Lily couldn't help but be a little disappointed by his answer, harmless as it was. It was just so very mundane.

* * *

 

"Afternoon, Angela," James called, kicking off his shoes as he entered the hallway of his aunt's house.

"Don't call me Angela!" Angie cried from the kitchen. "And don't just leave your shoes lying around where anyone could trip over them."

James rolled his eyes, but did as he was told. After throwing his belongings on his bedroom floor, James joined Angie in the kitchen to 'help' her cook dinner. This largely entailed eating and not a lot of actual cooking.

"What are these?" asked James, spotting a pile of paper on the kitchen table. The closer he got to the pile, the more obvious it became what it comprised of: those bloody newsletters. "Angie, what are you doing with all of Lily Evans' newsletters?"

At Lily's name, Angie actually stopped cooking and turned to face her nephew.

"You've made friends with Lily Evans?" she asked brightly.

James snorted, "I wouldn't say 'friends'. I can assure you that she wouldn't either." Angie was smirking at him. "Anyway that's not the point. What're you doing with all of these?" He gestured to the pile.

"I printed them for her," Angie explained. "And she told me to keep a load and hand them out to the adults around the village."

James was inspecting the topmost newsletter.

"You want one?" she asked.

"Nah I've already got one. I just haven't read it yet." James sunk into a chair, his eyes not leaving the page. "Lily wrote this, did she?"

"Most of it."

Angie returned to her cooking and waited for James to speak first. He was silent until he reached the very last word on the very last page. Then he asked, "Do you know Lily well?"

"Most people know Lily. She's a friendly girl," said Angie, her tone almost pointed, as though she were mocking him. "Why? What do you want to know about her?"

* * *

 

Remus Lupin was absent from school for the rest of the week.

 


	5. Team Captain

**Chapter Five: Team Captain**

Sowsworth had done a lot for James in the past few weeks. He'd made friends (albeit they either hated each other or him), he'd found a new way of messing up his hair, he'd grown at least half an inch, and he'd found a new pastime: doing anything he could think of to get Lily Evans’ attention.

If he was honest, he did not know why he needed her attention so much. All James knew was that Lily had not said one word to him since their first day back at school, and if he had to bother the words out of her then he would.

That Monday morning before school, James attempted to get Lily’s attention by running onto the football field and kicking the ball away from her boyfriend Kenneth.

James had every intention of turning to face the spot where Lily was standing with her friends at the edge of the pitch. He would then give her the thumbs up and wink. Unfortunately, his view was obscured by Kenneth's wider-than-expected teammates.

"Potter, what the hell are you doing?" sneered a spotty boy with large lips that James thought might be called Warren Stebbins.

"Oi, New Boy, who said you could play?" called Dave McKinnon from the goal.

Kenneth did not heckle, but chortled and said, "That tackle wasn't half bad, Potter. How about you join us for a game?"

James caught a glimpse of red hair in the distance and decided that he delighted to join Kenneth and his friends for a game.

It should be noted that while James Potter generally exaggerated his abilities in most things, he was, in fact, an exceptionally fantastic football player. The best on that field by far. Had he just followed the rules of the game, the boys would have almost certainly taken a great liking to him. Of course, James would do no such thing.

James wasn't entirely sure if Kenneth was on his team or not. Nevertheless, he tackled him at every possible opportunity, making sure to score a goal immediately afterwards. He was running circles around the other boys, and was never quiet in his victory (just in case Lily had missed it).

By the time James 'accidentally' knocked Kenneth to the ground, the rest of the boys had had just about enough of him.

"What the hell is your problem, Potter?" cried Stebbins.

McKinnon sat down between the goalposts and appeared to be counting the change from his pocket, aware that this would last a while.

James was too busy laughing as Kenneth struggled up out of the mud to keep an eye on Lily as she stormed onto the field. James stopped laughing when he saw Lily crouching over her fallen boyfriend.

"Are you alright?" she asked softly, pushing Kenneth's fringe out of his eyes.

Kenneth looked from Lily, to James. Then, he grinned.

"I'm absolutely dandy." He didn't take his eyes of James as he said, "You're not half bad are you, Potter?"

"Fantastic is what you meant, I think," said James. "Fan-tas-tic. Three syllables. Meaning that something is so wonderful its existence makes onlookers believe they are fantasising. Synonyms include: James, Potter, James Potter's hair, James Potter's football skills, and," he added after a moment’s thought, "Lily Evans’ face."

James sh0t Lily a glance to see if he’d gotten a reaction, but her face remained stony.

Kenneth's grin did not fade as Stebbins and a gawky, olive-skinned boy who went by the name Jones offered to help him to his feet. Kenneth stood easily by himself. No injury was visible other than a tiny rip in the knee of his school trousers. James had not done much damage to Kenneth, emotionally or physically.

"You should play with us more often," offered Kenneth.

This was perhaps the perfect moment for James to bridge a friendship with the boys of Sowsworth, a people he had not really interacted with. At least not properly. True he had had several mysterious encounters with Sirius Black (most of them resulting in sitting on a hilltop, drinking whiskey, and getting confused over constellations), not to mention his attachment to Remus Lupin (who had proven to be most helpful in calling the attention of the Richies due to the fact that they will verbally attack any person who so much as walks near the one they call "Wheezer"). However, Sirius seemed to be less familiar with the people of Sowsworth than even James was, and Remus was notably absent for at least three days a week. For the most part, James was an outsider. If he had wanted a way in, this was it.

Scowling down at Kenneth (who, although now standing, was still a good half a foot shorter than James), he sucked in sharply through his teeth.

Lily watched on sceptically.

"I'm terribly sorry, Kenny," said James, "You're just not my type. I think we're better off staying friends. I'm staying chaste until marriage. I'm not ready for this sort of commitment-"

"Are you ready for a punch in the nose?" asked Jones, interrupting James' stream of excuses.

Before James could respond to this threat, Kenneth said, "Look, Potter, are you in or are you out?"

"I don't think so," answered James, knowing full well that these boys were not people he was looking to get to know any better.

Kenneth shrugged, Jones scoffed, but Stebbins pushed his way to the forefront of the boys and, wiggling an accusing finger at James, began to scold, "Do you think you're better than us or something?"

Something in his voice indicated low self-esteem, a nervousness behind his gruff anger.

"Don't worry, Spottins," said James. "I don't think I'm better than you, I know I'm better than you."

Something clicked in Stebbins mind.

"Did you just call me Spottins?" asked Stebbins.

"Is that not your name? I thought it was a happy coincidence that your name matched your face."

Lily looked to the sky and let out a deep sigh.

Stebbins lunged towards James, hitting him square on the chest and knocking him to the ground. James was half certain that he had broken his arse upon hitting the cold, compact mud, and was almost completely certain that the clasp on his watch had broken the skin on his wrist.

Hiding any indication of pain, James used his bad wrist to retrieve his glasses from beside him, having fallen off in the commotion. They were speckled with dirt, but he threw them straight back onto his face without bothering to wipe them clean.

When the world came back into focus, the first shape James saw clearly was Stebbins' foot flying towards his face. James raised his arms as a shield, but several arms were already pulling Stebbins back before his foot and James' face could become acquainted.

"Sorry about this," said Kenneth, who was now holding Stebbins with a firm arm around his neck. "Warren does tend to get overemotional, I'm sure he's filled with regret for what he did."

Stebbins face, currently squashed between Kenneth's upper arm and stomach, did not bear the slightest hint of regret. In fact, he looked very much like he was struggling to break free so he could complete his mission of killing James. A far-too-large-for-his-age-and-species boy relieved Kenneth of Stebbins, holding the spotted boy at least three inches off the ground with two firm arms around his legs. McKinnon did not move.

"Could you put me down, Tim?" asked Stebbins, waving his arms around in protest. "This is fucking humiliating."

Tim's voice was deep as he said, "Not until you calm down."

All of this was so amusing that James' concentration was devoted entirely to the scene before him, which is why he gave a start when he heard Lily's voice in his right ear.

"Calm down," she said, trying not to laugh at his frightened expression. "I was just coming to make sure you were okay."

"I’ve never been better, Evans," said James, feigning nonchalance.

Lily scoffed, "Oh, really? Your wrist is bleeding."

"I love how concerned you are about me."

"You know, I could easily convince Kenneth to set Stebbins on you. Now let me see your wrist."

"Real men don't bleed."

It suddenly occurred to him that Lily was engaging him in conversation, something she had not done for two weeks.

There was a thud, and both Lily and James' heads whipped around to see Kenneth, Jones, and several others try to detangle the mess that was Stebbins and Tim on the ground.

"For God's sake, Tim!" cried Stebbins. "Let me go! I'll leave the bastard alone!"

"Swear it!"

"I swear on Maureen Baddock's tits!"

Lily rolled her eyes and got to her feet as Tim released Stebbins at once.

"Listen, Potter," snarled Stebbins, making sure to keep his distance. "If you think you're so much better than us lot, why don't you prove it?"

James retorted, "I thought that match we just played was proof enough. Or rather, the match that I just played, and you stood picking at your scabby face throughout."

His witty come back was negated a little by the fact that James was still on the floor, trying to conceal his bleeding wrist.

"How about we settle this like adults?" suggested Kenneth.

"What does that mean?" asked Jones. "Have a cup of tea and argue over whose kid’s better at maths?"

James took this brief distraction as an opportunity to stand up.

"Look," he said, regaining their attention once his hand and wrist were stuffed into his pocket. He tried not to wince at the stinging. "Can we just admit I’m better then you?"

To James' surprise, it was Jones who walked forwards, not Stebbins.

"Okay, Potter," said Jones. "How about we settle this, as Kenneth said, like adults?"

"Yeah!" cried Kenneth in approval. "Let's all behave like adults."

Jones continued his settlement, "We challenge you to a football match: five of us versus one of you."

"Wait, no!" Kenneth tugged on Jones' shoulder. "That's not fair or adult!" He turned to face James. "You can find four people to be on your team with you."

"Thank you, Kenny," said James. "But I could probably manage by myself."

Jones gestured wildly towards James, crying, "You see this! This behaviour needs childish treatment."

"Five versus five," stated Kenneth firmly. He held out his right hand, indicating James should shake it. "Next Monday at lunch."

"What does the winner get?" asked James, eyeing Kenneth's stubby fingers sceptically.

Kenneth shrugged and suggested, "A trophy?"

"Okay then," said James, holding out his left hand for Kenneth to shake (his right was being bled on in his pocket). "But only because I like shiny things."

Kenneth dropped the hand he had extended to James, holding out his own left hand to shake James'.

"I'll see you kids around," said James with a wink, turning and walking away.

"Until then you're barred from the pitch!" called Stebbins after him.

Tim pinched his shoulder.

James was already regretting his decision to accept Kenneth's proposal. If only he had been able to keep distracting them with witticisms until the bell rang, he would be safe. James didn't like to admit defeat, but he was truly and utterly buggered. Who the hell was he supposed to recruit? He knew next to no one in this bloody village.

Just then, one of his few acquaintances appeared at his shoulder.

"Oi, Potter," greeted Lily. "How's the wrist?"

"Not bleeding," said James. But Lily had not waited for his response. Instead, she had gripped just below his right elbow and yanked his hand out of his pocket. The pierce in his skin was shallow, and only a trickle of blood was pouring from it.

"Well, it's not as bad as a thought," she noted, as James whimpered in pain. "Don't go crying, I have something for you." She held up a plaster. "I borrowed this from Mary."

"Tell her I'll get it back to her as soon as possible," said James.

"You're hilarious," said Lily dryly. "You can keep it." She ripped open the packaging and, very carefully, placed the plaster over his wound. "There you go, you're as good as new."

James rubbed the plaster sheepishly.

"Cheers, Evans," he said earnestly.

* * *

 

Lily found Severus in the library. He was slumped on the floor by the cookery books, scrawling notes in the margins of a chemistry text book that rested on his lap.

"Why did you lie to me about your suit?" she said by way of greeting.

His head snapped up at once.

"Lily," said Severus. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to ask you the question you're avoiding," said Lily, crossing her arms like an angry mother. "Why did you lie to me?"

He felt his mouth drying rapidly.

"Well it's one of two reasons, Severus," she reasoned. "Either you're ashamed of your new lifestyle, or you're ashamed of having me around all your new rich friends so you're trying to keep me at an arm's length."

Severus had managed to regain his composure, and an angry expression found its way onto his pointed face.

"Why are you bringing this up now?" he demanded, getting to his feet, textbook slipping from his lap. "I suppose this is why you've been avoiding me for the past two weeks!"

"I haven't been-"

"Oh, leave it out, Lily," he sneered. "I can tell when you're avoiding me. You've been 'busy' every single day since last Monday!"

"Fine," she admitted. "I've been pissed off at you."

"Why?"

"Because you lied to me about your suit, Severus!"

"What are you on about?"

"The suit, Sev! The suit you supposedly inherited from your father, the jacket which had a brand-spanking new price tag in it."

"Lily," he said weakly.

"I don't care how much money you spend on suits, Sev, I really don't! But you're the one who always needs my trust. You beg me to trust you and then you blatantly lie to me!"

"I knew you'd be angry," snapped Severus bitterly.

"Well, yeah you were right."

Lily concentrated on fiddling with the sleeve of her jumper. Severus concentrated on her pretty green eyes, filled with anger towards him.

"I'm really sorry, Lily," he said.

Taking a deep breath," she replied, "Look, I'm not angry with you anymore, Sev. That's why I came here. I didn't want to fight with you."

"Friends?" he asked timidly.

"Always," she confirmed.

And because of that, Severus did not ask her how she had gotten hold of his suit jacket. But he had not forgotten the last person he had seen holding it.

He was certain James Potter was out to get him.

* * *

 

"Remus!" roared James upon entering the French classroom that afternoon. "It's been far too long."

He took his place opposite Remus, throwing his bag on the floor.

"Hullo, James," said Remus. "How've you been?"

"I've been friendless and alone, bordering on song-writing."

Remus had been nodding at James' words, until the last part.

"Song-writing? You write songs?" asked Remus, disbelief evident in his voice.

"Does replacing the words of already-written songs with body parts or names of people I know count?" said James.

"I don't think so."

"Then I have not. But I was so distraught I almost did."

"Can you even play an instrument?"

"Not even slightly."

At that point, Lily begrudgingly took her seat beside James.

"Yeah, I've been playing guitar for about five years," said James casually. Lily did not react to this. "In my highest musical opinion," he pressed on, "Guitars are easily the best instruments to write metaphorical love songs on."

Then, James pretended to only have just notice Lily.

"Evans!" he cried. "When did you get here?"

* * *

 

James spent his Tuesday lunch-time inside. He might have broken Stebbins' James Embargo on the football pitch, but he was sadly in detention for not having done his French homework. Fortunately, Sirius accompanied him as he’d not turned up to the lesson at all. Not to mention, Miss Vector had been naïve enough to leave them unsupervised.

"I've decided that learning French is incompatible with my spiritual beliefs," said Sirius, lounging on a desk and staring at the asbestos ceiling.

"And the belief is?" asked James.

"N'apprends pas ce que tu sais déjà," replied Sirius, quickly and with an almost-native accent (by James' standards anyway).

"Pardon?"

"Don't learn what you already know," he explained.

"It sounded better when I didn't know what it meant," said James, who was scrawling on the chalk board. "How come you speak French?"

"Quia habui," began Sirius.

"Can you explain in not-French?" James interrupted.

"That was Latin."

"Can you please explain in English?"

Sirius waved a lazy hand in compliance.

"Because," he said, in clear and slow English, "I had a tutor."

"For French?"

"And one for Latin, Maths, English, and even one for Philosophy. Ask me anything about Plato."

"I'll give it a miss," said James, letting his hand slide down the chalk board, smudging his drawing a little. "Hey, you didn't happen to have a football tutor did you?"

Sirius sat up a little, leaning on his elbows, so he could look at James.

"I had a rugby coach," he offered.

"No football?"

"My mother thinks football is for poor people," said Sirius. "No offence," he added quickly, seeing the picture James had drawn on the chalkboard: a giant chalk football. "I'm guessing you were never football-deprived."

"Team captain," James said proudly. "At my old school anyway."

An awkward and prolonged silence arose between the two boys. James leaned back on the chalkboard, not caring that the back of his t-shirt was becoming powdered with the chalk of his drawing. Sirius sat right up, observing how his feet looked while swinging beneath and out from under the table.

"Did you want to play football some time?" asked Sirius, finally breaking the silence.

James grinned.

"Funny you should bring up football."

By Friday, James was growing a little bit desperate. With the football match three days away and only Sirius on his team, he was beginning to worry that he might be forced to make either a fool or a coward of himself.

* * *

 

Remus knew James was following him.

James knew that Remus knew that James was following him. Yet both parties remained silence. Remus, because he was unsure of James' intentions, and James because he was waiting for the right moment. Ideally one where Remus could not escape.

When Remus turned into the toilets, James spotted his moment and ducked in after Remus.

"I'm beginning to think you’re stalking me," said Remus, not unzipping his trousers. "Do you have to stand right next to me?"

"Relax!" cried James. "I'm not pissing; I just want a word with you."

"That does actually make it weirder."

"I just needed to know if you could play football."

Remus tensed up,

"Are you making fun of me?"

"What?" asked James, taken aback.

"You've been hanging out with Sirius all week," said Remus pointedly and then, after a moment, "I don't think I need the loo so much anymore."

He left James confused and alone in the horrifically yellow-stained boy’s toilets. James made a mental note to question Sirius about Remus, but not until after the football match. Remus wasn't in school on Monday at all.

* * *

Although Lily had forgiven Severus, she still found very little time to spend with him. Instead she was increasingly preoccupied with Fabian Prewett.

"I really can't thank you enough for all you're doing," Fabian said to her on Friday over the lunch table they were sharing. "Sometimes I think you care more about saving our little farm than we do!"

"I like doing it," she admitted. "It makes me feel good to know I'm doing good, y'know?"

"Whatever the reason, you're a saint!" And he offered her half of his ham sandwich, which she graciously accepted. "I just wish I could leave this hole of a school and work full-time on the farm."

Fabian was noticeably taller than the rest of the students due to a combination of genetics and being at least a year older than anyone else in the school. The amount of exams he had retaken would make anyone else give up. However, most people did not have an overly-supportive and nagging girlfriend.

"How is Hestia?" Lily asked Fabian.

"Overly-supportive and nagging," Fabian answered honestly.

Hestia Jones and Fabian Prewett were going to university together in Wales. They had decided this four years ago, when they had started the two years of sixth-form (or in Fabian's unfortunate case: four years). Hestia had gotten in two years beforehand, but had stayed behind in Sowsworth, waiting patiently (as patiently as expected anyway) for her boyfriend to pass his exams and accompany her.

"Anyway," said Fabian, moving the subject on from Hestia, "Where’s the rest of the gang?"

By the 'gang', Fabian meant the handful of people Lily had talked into joining the campaign to save the Prewett farm. Members this gang included (and were limited to) Dorcas Meadowes, Mary Macdonald, Benjy Fenwick, Frank Longbottom, and Kenneth Pritchard.

Kenneth's absence could be explained by football, Dorcas' by a meeting with her Maths teacher, Mary rarely turned up when Dorcas didn't, and Benjy and Frank were getting food.

"Benjy and Frank will be here any minute," said Lily.

"Where will we be?" asked Frank, sitting beside Lily.

"Certainly not here," said Benjy, taking the seat on her other side. "Personally I'm still in English. Still no idea what hyperbole is."

James didn't know where Sirius was, he didn't know where Remus had run off to, and he was still three men short of a football team.

Almost out of habit, he wandered until he stumbled upon red hair. That Friday he found two red-heads sitting opposite each other in the canteen. Lily Evans appeared to be surrounded by boys which was a problem because it left James with very little room to catch her attention.

"Excuse me, sir, but your hair is ginger," said James sombrely, sitting beside the red-head across from Lily.

"James, what are you doing?" she sighed.

"Evans, I don't believe I was talking to you," he said, turning back to Fabian. "How long have you been a ginger?"

Fabian laughed and shook his head, asking, "One of your friends, Lily?"

"No," said Lily very quickly. "He's more of an annoyance."

"She fancies me," James clarified.

Lily screwed up her face at him before turning back to Fabian.

"Fabian, this is James Potter."

"Nice to meet you," said Fabian, holding out his hand to James. "I don't remember the last time I met someone for the first time."

"I can't remember the last time I saw someone so ginger," said James, shaking Fabian's hand in return. "Oh, now I remember." His eyes found Lily.

A side effect of looking at Lily was seeing the two awkward looking boys either side of her. He recognised that one with the big blue eyes as Benjy from the horror of a jumble sale. The other boy, the one with the mayonnaise and wisps of an attempted beard on his chin, James only knew from sight. They were both in his year, and yet, unlike the others, were inside for lunch.

"You two not big on the football games?" asked James, leaning forwards and hardly seeing Lily at all now.

"We don't play football because Frank is terrible," said Benjy.

The boy James took to be Frank shot the other boy a death glare.

"I'm not terrible!" he snapped.

"Sorry," Benjy corrected himself. "He's not terrible. He just plays with techniques so unique nobody knows how to react."

"That's why they laugh," said Frank.

He and Benjy then burst into peals of laughter.

"Yeah very funny," said James dryly, unimpressed, "How would you both like to be on my team?"

Benjy caught Frank's eye and jerked his head, showing that he'd like to talk to him alone. Benjy and Frank stood in the corner of the canteen, some twenty feet away, and spoke in quiet, decisive tones.

"So," said Lily, breaking the silence that had fallen in their wake, drawing James' attention away from the corner and back to her face. "You're not going to stay all lunch are you?"

* * *

 

At Eleven o'clock Monday morning, James had a football team of four (including himself) and was desperately searching for one more.

Lily was searching for Kenneth. She found Fabian first, her feet predisposed towards his direction.

"Fabian, you were not the boy I was looking for but you'll do for company."

She linked her arm with his and they wandered together.

"You do know how to make me feel special, don't you?" said Fabian. "Which boy were you looking for?"

"Kenneth," said Lily, as though it was the most obvious answer in the world.

Fabian smiled slyly, retorting, "No need to get defensive."

"Well, who else would I mean?"

"Any number of male companions! Severus," Lily softened at Severus' name, accepting Fabian's point; she did have a few male friends. "Benjy, Frank, you said you were tutoring Tim in English."

"Yeah I get the idea," said Lily, nudging Fabian with her elbow.

"And of course that new boy I met the other day," he finished.

Lily choked, "I do not look for James Potter, James Potter looks for me!"

"What's wrong?" asked Fabian, chuckling. "I thought he seemed alright."

"He's not alright at all. Trust me."

"Know him well then?"

"Well enough."

* * *

 

Lily wasn't sure if the boys' changing rooms were the epitome of the smell of sweat and dirt, but it could easily advertise as so with little contestation. She tried not to make a habit of going in there, but that was the only place she could conceive of Kenneth being this close to the fabled upcoming football match against James Potter, Benjy Fenwick, Frank Longbottom, and whoever else James had charmed into playing with him.

"Nobody's naked are they?" called Lily, entering slowly and with her eyes covered. She was immediately swallowed into what felt like Kenneth's arms. "I hope you're my boyfriend."

Kenneth pulled her hands away from her eyes, confirming her suspicions.

"Hello," she smiled up at him. "I was looking for you. I wanted to wish you luck."

Lily gave his a chaste kiss on the lips before saying, "And now I’ll be off."

"Wait a mo’. Where are you going?"

"Anywhere but here," said Lily, gesturing to the yellow-stained walls and brown-stained floor.

Kenneth shot a look over his shoulder at his team.

"Lily, we need your help," he said seriously.

The other boys nodded in agreement. It was obvious they had discussed asking for her help prior to this conversation.

"How so?" asked Lily sceptically.

"You know this Potter bloke, don't you?"

Looking past Kenneth, Lily noted that Stebbins looked rather better with his top on.

"Too well for my liking," she conceded. The boys all looked at her expectantly. "What?"

"What can you tell us about him?"

"He doesn't have a decent bone in his body?" she suggested.

They were unimpressed with this.

"Does he have a weaknesses?" clarified Kenneth.

"Short skirts?" she offered.

"Is that all you've got?" asked Stebbins.

"Anything about football?" prompted Jones.

Lily gave a sheepish shrug.

"He seems good at it," she said.

Evidently, she did not know enough about James Potter to give a blow-by-blow description of his football-playing techniques, but why an earth should she?

"Sorry," grumbled Lily, though not entirely sincere. The, wrapping her arms around Kenneth's waist, speaking only to him, she said softly, "I'll find a patch of grass to watch you win from?"

* * *

 

The truth about James Potter's football techniques was that he was, for the moment, with a team of four about to play a game of five against five.

He’d gathered them

"How are you all feeling today?" asked James, trying to hide the stress in his voice as he looked from each of his teammates to the other.

Benjy was tying his shoelace, Frank was rolling up the sleeves of his long-sleeved t-shirt, Sirius was biting his nails. None of them replied.

"How about this," said James, changing his tact. "Are you feeling prepared to make up for the fact that we're one player down?"

Sirius jumped to attention immediately, hopping up and down, waving an arm in the air.

"Oh, sir, I know the answer, sir! Pick me, sir!" he cried.

"Sirius?" said James through gritted teeth.

"We don't care," replied Sirius mockingly.

James flicked him on the ear.

"Calm down, dear," soothed Sirius, "if you want another player I know exactly where to find one."

"Why didn't you say earlier?" asked Benjy, both concerned and amused. "Could’ve stopped him having that freak out"

"It wasn't a freak out," said James quickly. "I’ve been calm the whole time."

Sirius interrupted, "Look, I know a poor bastard who'll do whatever I tell him. I doubt he can play football at all but at least he's another player. There's only one catch."

"Which is?" said James.

"He's a Richie."

Frank scoffed, "So are you, Black!"

"Actually, I'm not, Longbottom!" said Sirius.

"You're not a bloody local, are you?"

"I'm neither," explained Sirius, smoothing down his too-long black hair. "I'm a rogue."

"You're a twat," said Frank.

Sirius turned to lunge at him, but was stopped by James' arm.

James put his face in his hands and groaned, "Not that I care about this match or anything." Benjy snorted at James' words. "But could you please go and fetch your rich git?"

* * *

 

Sirius had not returned five minutes later and James was now two players down, getting incredibly close to showing some form of stress, which would, of course, be a weakness he would never live down.

He didn't know why this match had become so important to him. It might have just boiled down to his competitive nature or maybe it was just a pride thing. Whatever it was, it was causing him to run his hands through his hair more often than he thought possible in such short a time.

The match should have been starting, but Kenneth had insisted that they wait until the remainder of James' team showed up before beginning. Stebbins disagreed wholeheartedly but his opinion on the matter was not considered valuable.

"Are you going to have another freak out?" asked Frank cautiously.

"I'm fine," said James, ruffling his hair out of habit more than anything at this point.

He was standing with Frank and Benjy on the edge of the pitch, ignoring Stebbins’ glares from the other side.

"Can I get you anything to calm your nerves?" said Benjy.

"No, I'm fine," said James.

"You sure?"                     

James was tired of this constant concern and decided to wander over to where Lily sat on the grass.

"Come to watch me win?" he asked, crouching down beside her.

Lily's legs were stretched out before her and she tapped the tips of her shoes together to some beat inside her head. She was in a good mood and James was not going to ruin in.

"You're not short on love for yourself, are you?" teased Lily.

James bowed his head in a chuckle, before raising it slowly and meeting Lily's eyes.

"You've been avoiding me," he accused.

"Not even slightly," she replied calmly. "I've been ignoring your idiotic comments, but I've made no special effort to avoid you."

"Fair enough, Evans. Fair enough."

"You seem short of a team."

"Want to join? Make up the numbers?"

Lily laughed, "I like watching football, not playing it. Especially not in a skirt. Especially not since I'm avoiding you."

James' legs were going numb, so he shifted his position and stood with his legs straight, bending over to speak to Lily.

"So you're not avoiding me?" he asked stupidly.

"No, but we aren't actually friends so I'm not obliged to spend time with you either. Besides, you always manage to piss me off when we talk," said Lily chirpily, tapping her toes. "I think your team's complete by the way."

James looked over to where Lily was pointing and saw that, across the pitch, Sirius had joined Benjy and Frank with a boy James had never met before. James waved a goodbye to Lily over his shoulder as he jogged over to his team.

"Who's this?" asked James.

The boy mumbled something under his breath.

"Speak up," said Sirius sharply.

The boy's face went from pink to white as he whimpered, "Peter Pettigrew."

Peter was short, blonde, round, and visibly terrified of Sirius. James too for some reason, seemed to cause him to cower as he spoke to him.

"Sirius said I could play," squeaked Peter. "I don't want to force myself on your team!"

"Relax, mate," said James, giving Peter a reassuring clap on the shoulder. "You can go in goal."

The teams took their places at opposite ends of the pitch. The rules were simple: no violence, no misconduct with the ball, and the match would end with the ringing of the bell that signalled the end of lunch.

As they were taking their places in defence, Benjy shot Frank a worried look.

"You sure you're going to be okay playing in front of all these people?" he asked under his breath.

"You're not my mother," said Frank. "I told you last week I'd be fine."

The game lasted for roughly three minutes.

"You ready?" asked Kenneth of James.

"Never been readier," he replied.

James was the first to take possession of the ball, dribbling it down to the goal and scoring. The ball flew right past an angry and spotted Stebbins.

"You just got lucky, Potter!" he cat-called from between the goal posts. "It won't happen again!"

For all the declarations of James' goal being luck, the opposition did a very good job and not letting him near the ball again.

Fortunately for James, he had four other players. Unfortunately for James, none of them seemed to be doing much playing.

Frank froze every time the ball went anywhere near him, Benjy had failed to tackle the ball from Jones at least six times, Peter was shaking in terrified anticipation of someone trying to score, and Sirius had watched the ball roll past him several times.

"Unless one of you touches that bloody ball in the next minute I will personally see to the removal of your front teeth," cried James, almost taking possession of the ball before he was blocked by three members of the other team.

Miraculously, Benjy managed to tackle to ball off of Kenneth. He then, at once, lost it off the edge of the pitch.

Kenneth threw the ball back into play from the sideline. His aim a little too wide, he missed Jones by about an inch, sending the ball hurtling away from target, and landing at the feet of Frank Longbottom.

"Frank!" called James from across the pitch. "I'm open!"

Frank promptly vomited.


	6. The Chess Club

**Chapter Six: The Chess Club**

Provided that James could find a player who was not in a vomit-inducing relationship with footballs, a rematch would take place on the following Friday. Kenneth had decided this was only fair, given that Frank was obviously in no position to play further and the bell had not yet rung to indicate the end of lunch. Jones and Stebbins had expressed their disapproval rather physically but were eventually silenced.

“So I just need to find a new player by Friday?” asked James, standing very firmly on Stebbins’ right hand. “Then when I beat you I get a nice shiny trophy?”

“No. When we beat you, you get banned from the pitch for life,” said Stebbins venomously. “Now get off of me.”

* * *

 

“So I’ve made room on my shelf for the trophy,” James told Sirius and Benjy after school. “I would let you share but I’m an only child.”

“You lucky bastard,” said Sirius dryly. “Now where do you expect to find another player by Friday?”

The three of them were lying on the village green, hoping that the grey sky would hold off from raining on them.

James grinned before saying gleefully, “Oh, I don’t have to find him. I know exactly where he is.”

“Then why don’t you go get him?” asked Benjy, who had covered the bored expression on his face with both of his arms.

He didn’t much like doing things without Frank, and Frank was at home recovering from his vomiting incident both physically and emotionally.

“Because I can’t,” said James. “It’s beyond my finite teenage boy powers to convince this certain someone he should play team.”

“Just get him drunk first,” suggested Sirius.

“I’m glad you have a plan Sirius, because you’re the one who has to convince him,” said James.

“Why me?”

“Because you’re the reason he won’t play football with me. I know you are.”

“Why is it my fault?” asked Sirius indignantly. “I’m not Lord of the Football Playing Recluses.”

James rolled over on his front and said firmly, “You have to go apologise to Remus Lupin and get him to play on Friday.”

At this, Benjy burst out laughing. 

“What’s so funny?” demanded James.

But Benjy was too busy laughing to respond.

Sirius did not find the situation nearly as amusing, however, and could form his angry sentence with little difficulty, “You’re asking me to apologise to Remus Lupin?” he spat, standing up. “Why do you just assume I need to apologise to him?”

“Because you’re a twat,” Benjy choked through laughter. “But seriously, James, you’d be better off with Reverend Macdonald than Remus Lupin.”

James was angry now as well, scrambling to his feet so he could look Sirius in the eye. 

“Why does everyone think they’re better than Remus Lupin?” asked James. 

“Just at football,” said Benjy quickly, just as Sirius said, “Because everyone is better than Remus Lupin. Except maybe Pettigrew.”

“Where is Pettigrew?” wondered James.

Sirius told them, “I haven’t a clue. I sent him to get me a packet of crisps ten minutes ago. He should be back by now. What?”

Sirius had noticed that James was glaring at him.

“You’ve got a problem, mate,” said James.

“Do I?”

“You think you’re too good for everyone. What you’ve got is a serious sense of self-importance.”

Sirius shook his head in disbelief and muttered, “Hypocrite.”

“Sorry?” said James.

Stepping towards James and keeping direct eye contact, Sirius said, in a loud and clear voice, “You’re a hypocrite. You’ve lived here for a month and you already strut around like you own the place! We both know we’re above other people so why pretend otherwise?”

James glared back at Sirius.

“Just go apologise to Lupin,” he said.

“I don’t let people tell me what to do.”

“Do it as a mate.”

Sirius raised an eyebrow.

“Mate?” he repeated. “Nah, that can’t be right. I’m too good for you, remember?”

The two boys stared at each other in silence, neither daring to be the first to move.

“Right, if you two are gonna play Coronation Street then I’m leaving,” said Benjy, lifting himself up off the floor.

Sirius turned to him and snapped, “We’re not playing some stupid soap opera, Fenwick.”

James realised that this would be the perfect moment to kick Sirius in the shin. He then realised that Sirius would not take this lying down and he was not totally certain he could take Sirius in a physical fight.

“Look, Potter,” said Sirius, looking back at James. James quickly diverted his gaze from Sirius’ shin to his face. “I’d like to think we’re mates, but this is only going to work if you understand something.”

“What’s that?”

“I don’t do anything for anybody but me.”

* * *

 

Remus Lupin was rather hard to track down the next day. He didn’t spend his lunch times with anyone else so Sirius couldn’t ask around even he’d wanted to (which he didn’t because he had a strong aversion to most people).

Eventually, after a good half an hour of searching, Sirius caught a glimpse of a mousey-haired boy through the window of a maths classroom.

“Typical,” muttered Sirius, making his way towards the classroom in which Remus Lupin sat alone. Upon arrival, he asked, in an audible voice, “Mind if I come in?”

Remus’ head jerked up. It seemed he had been playing chess by himself. Is this what he did every lunch? Sirius felt a small surge of guilt that he quickly repressed.

“I’d rather you didn’t,” said Remus coolly, regaining his composure and resuming his game.

“Oh, c’mon!” cried Sirius. “I brought you flowers.”

 “Really?”

“Of course not. Why on earth would I bring you flowers? What a stupid question.”

“Well, you did say-” began Remus.

Sirius ignored him, continuing to prattle on as he moved further into the room, “Do I look like the kind of bloke who’d carry flowers around with him? Where would I even be hiding them? You can see me, can you see flowers?”

“In your bag perhaps,” suggested Remus.

Sirius scoffed, “I don’t have a bag.”

“Then where do you keep your school things?”

Jumping up onto Remus’ desk, Sirius shot him a pitying look. He managed to knock over a few chess pieces in his assent.

“Sorry,” said Sirius quickly.

“Why are you here?”

“I’m here to make amends.” Sirius forced a grin and extended a stiff hand. Remus simply stared back at him, “Or to humiliate myself,” he added, lowering his hand. “You don’t want to make amends?”

“Why would I want to make amends with you?”

“Okay, fine, be difficult, but I want it in writing,” demanded Sirius. “James seems to think this whole thing where we hate each other is my fault.”

“It is your fault,” said Remus.

“Only when you look at the facts,” said Sirius.

Had Remus not utterly loathed Sirius Black, he might have cracked a smile.

“James wants you to come and make amends with me?” asked Remus cautiously. “Why?”

“Because he’s throwing a dinner party and he’s worried he doesn’t have enough guests.”

Remus did let out a breathy laugh at that.

Sirius continued, “Look, for some reason James likes you. So, for James, will you pretend to not hate me until Friday?”

“What’s on Friday?”

Sirius smiled slyly.

“James wants you to play football with us,” he said. "Then, letting out a low and deliberate cough, Sirius jumped off the desk. “See you after school on the green. James wants to practice.” 

As soon as Sirius was out of the door, Remus groaned and buried his head in his arms.

* * *

 

Lily’s feet were tucked up under her as she leaned against her headboard and glued magazine cuttings in a scrapbook. Severus lounged at the bottom of her bed.

 “Sev, what do you think about starting this summer?” she said.

“Sorry?” asked Severus.

He had been engrossed in a magazine article titled ’30 things to do in the south of France’

 “This summer. Why don’t we get started on this,” explained Lily, nodding towards the scrapbook in her lap.

Severus stared purposely at the magazine he was holding and pursed his lips.

“Why would we go this summer?” he asked. “I thought we were waiting until after our A-levels.”

“My dad’s getting better though and if he comes out someone’s gonna have to look after him while mum’s at work so maybe we should get started as soon as possible. Just in case, you know… I can’t go later on,” she trailed off.

With a start, Severus dropped the magazine.

 “What do you mean ‘if’ you can’t go? We have to go! We’ve been planning this since we were eleven,” he cried.

"Sev," said Lily dangerously.

"I’m sorry," he sighed. "Obviously it’s fantastic news about your dad." Severus flicked through the magazine he’d dropped absent-mindedly, taking a deep breath before saying, "But I can’t go this summer. I got an internship."

 “Seriously? That’s amazing!” exclaimed Lily, sitting forwards on her knees to share in the excitement of her friend’s success. “How did you manage that?”

“Mulciber’s got connections,” he said quietly, a little embarrassed. Lily’s grin faded a little. “His uncle works for a law firm and he got me work there for the summer.”

“Well, I think that’s bloody amazing,” said Lily.

“Really?” said Severus, looking at her hopefully.

“Of course!” but she was not nearly as enthusiastic as she had been a few moments before he had mentioned Mulciber and Severus could tell, could hear it in her voice and read it in her face.

“You’re upset with me,” he said.

It was not a question.

“What? I never said that!”

“You didn’t have to,” said Severus, sourly.

“Can you stop trying to make this a fight? You’re always making everything into a fight.”

“It’s not my fault!” he cried. “You just judge me for everything I do these days.”

“I don’t judge you for everything you do, thank you very much. I just don’t happen to support you making friends with awful people. It’s changing you, Sev,” she said calmly. “But I am happy for you.”

He jumped off her bed and snatched his coat.

“Oh, where are you going?” she asked, in a tired voice.

He didn’t respond and slammed the door as he left.

* * *

 

Everyone else was five minutes late for practice and James was getting little agitated.

As captain, James had grown accustomed to having people follow his orders. This wasn’t exclusive to football either. The boys at his old school had idolised him to a certain extent, and although he found it difficult to really value them as his equals, they were his friends. He thought so anyway. Well, they did what he said. Now, he couldn’t even get four other boys to show up to practice.

James dropped the football he was holding and kicked it violently against a nearby tree.

“Calm down, Specs.”

James turned to see Sirius walking across the green, Peter in tow.

“Where have you been?” asked James.

“What are you talking about,” said Sirius. “We’re ten minutes early.”

“You’re five minutes late.”

“Which is ten minutes earlier than I usually turn up.”

Peter laughed nervously, which James and Sirius both ignored.

“Do you know where Benjy is?” asked James.

“He probably won’t show up,” said Sirius. “Not now Longbottom’s off the team.”

Peter elaborated, “Longbottom and Fenwick do everything together.”

“Did you speak to Remus?” said James.

“I make a point not to,” said Sirius.

“You know what I mean,” retorted James.

“No, mother, I did not speak to Remus.”

Just then, Remus Lupin came into sight, walking from Church Street to the village green. James looked from the approaching Remus to Sirius, eyebrow raised questioningly.

“Oh, _that_ Remus!” cried Sirius. “Yeah, I spoke to that Remus. I never thought he’d actually show up though.”

“Okay, James,” called Remus, who was still making his way towards them. “I’ll play football with you, but only to make up the numbers. I’m not going to run or anything.”

Upon reaching the three boys, Remus stood between Sirius and James, making a circle of four. James looked around at his new team.

Through gritted teeth he said, “Okay. If this is all we’ve got then let’s get started.”

Because, really, the team could be a lot worse. Probably.

* * *

 

Severus all but stormed out of the Evans’ house. He was absolutely seething. Why couldn’t she just support him? Why couldn’t she just accept him? Why did she always have to have an opinion on everything? He kicked a nearby dustbin. It shook a little. Then he heard yelling from around the corner.

There were four boys playing football on the village green.

This was not an unusual occurrence. However, the four boys seen playing football were not only not the sort of boys Severus expected to see playing football, they are also the last four boys he would except to see playing football all together.

James Potter aimed the football towards Peter Pettigrew, who appeared to be in goal. Peter attempted to catch the ball but ended up blocking it with his face. This sent the ball ricocheting and rolling past Sirius Black who seemed more interested in making a fallen leaf into a perfect fishbone, as Remus Lupin lightly jogged after it in a vague attempt to stop it ending up in the road.

It was a peculiar sight to say the least.

As the ball rolled closer to where Severus was standing on the other side of the road, and as Remus grew more out of breath, James called out, “Oi, Lupin, don’t lose my ball!”

A sudden wave of vengeance, fuelled both by his anger at Lily and his resentment towards James Potter, came over him. He knew that none of the boys had spotted him yet, that he could easily just walk away from this, go home, and fume alone in his room without any bother. But he was not going to do that.

Before Remus could reach the ball, Severus ran forwards and grabbed it from the middle of the road.

“Excuse me!” cried Remus, as Severus sprinted past him.

“Oi!” said James. “Where does that slimy git think he’s going with my ball?”

Quickly, James and Peter took off after Severus (Peter significantly slower than James). Remus sprinted for ten seconds before stopping to catch his breath. Sirius leaned against a tree and watched the scene unfold.

James, being the fastest of the boys by far, managed to catch up with Severus and knock him to the ground. Severus clutched the football to his chest like a newborn, trying desperately to keep it away from James. But, James easily overpowered the other boy and won the football.

“Peter!” cried James, throwing the ball in his direction. It bounced past him, but after a short run, Peter managed to reach it and pick it up.

Severus used this time to scramble to his feet and run after Peter, who promptly threw the ball the Remus. Severus changed direction, ever following the ball.

Remus, Peter, and James managed to pass the ball between themselves for a few minutes, laughing at Severus who kept running from one of them to the other, or trying to stop the ball in midair.

Finally snapping at the humiliation, Severus sprinted towards James and, in spite of the fact that Peter was currently holding the ball, tackled him to the ground.

Seeing this, Sirius leapt from his leaning position against the tree and ran to pull Severus off of James.

“You little fucker,” spat Sirius, holding Severus in a headlock.

“Let me go!” said Severus, his voice muffled against Sirius’ arm.

Remus and Peter had come over to see what was going on, Peter still holding the ball.

“Apologise first,” said Sirius.

“Or what,” said Severus.

“Or we’ll wash your hair,” said James, climbing up off the grass and brushing the dirt off of his trousers.

Sirius laughed, distracted from Severus for a moment, who used this time to raise his leg to the back of Sirius’ knee. Buckling, Sirius accidentally allowed Severus to free himself.

Grabbing the ball from Peter, Severus ran again.

This time all four of the boys took off after him (although Remus did stop after a few seconds). James managed to get ahold of Severus from behind as Peter retrieved the ball. It was then passed back to Remus, who fumbled with it a little before throwing it in Sirius’ direction.

Sirius, seeing Severus elbow James, get free once more, and begin to run towards him, did the first thing he could think of. He took a penknife out of his pocket and stabbed the football.

Everyone stopped moving.

“Tell me you did not just murder my football,” said James, wincing at the sight of the knife in the ball.

“I’m not entirely sure yet,” replied Sirius. “One second.” Removing the knife, he gave the ball a small squeeze. It dented. “Well, I think it’s more injured than anything.”

“Why would you murder a football?” asked Remus.

“I might have panicked,” said Sirius.

“Hey,” said Peter. James, Sirius, and Remus turned to look at him. “Snape ran away.”

* * *

 

An hour before the match of Friday, James knew without a shadow of a doubt that he would be losing. Not only had his team been forced to practice with a tennis ball in light of the death of James’ football, but the team itself proved to be even worse than his predictions. Remus Lupin, excepting that incident with Severus Snape, had held true to his promise not to run. Peter put in effort put lacked coordination and always forget the tricks James had tried to teach him. Sirius remained constant in his apathy.

It was going to be an embarrassment of a match.

He needed a distraction from his worrying and, luckily for him, he spotted Lily Evans on his journey from the boy’s toilets to the library, where he was going to go over last minute tactics with Peter and Remus (Sirius had declined his invitation) in their free period before lunch.

“Evans,” said James, grinning. “How are you this fine day?”

Lily started at the sound of her name.

“Oh, James,” she said. “Hi.”

“How are you?”

“I’m good,” said Lily.

She appeared to be rather distracted, eyes darting about as though looking for something.

“Are you sure you’re alright?”

“What?” she said, eyes snapping back to James. “Oh, yeah I’m fine.”

“What’ve you lost?” asked James, following her gaze as it wandered once more.

“Nothing,”

“Are you coming to watch me play football this lunch time?”

“That sounds lovely,” she replied faintly, now looking directly past James, craning her head to get a good view of the space behind him.

James thought it was highly likely that she had not heard exactly what it was he had asked her, “Do you like my hair?”

“Good,” she said.

He chuckled and said, “How about my face?”

“Yep.”

“How would you like to run away together?”

“Yeah.”

“Evans,” said James.

“What?” asked Lily, her eyes focusing on him again.

“You’re not paying attention to anything I’m saying.”

“Oh, sorry,” she sighed. “It’s just I expected someone to turn up”

“Boyfriend stood you up?”

“No that’s not who I was waiting for.” Lily bit her lip. “Anyway, shouldn’t you be practicing football or something?”

Suddenly, James remembered that he was supposed to be at the library.

“That’s right,” he said. “You distracted me for a moment. Hey, your boyfriend didn’t hire you to divert my attention did he? Try and make me lose the match? That would be sabotage.”

Lily scowled and replied, “You started talking to me.”

“So I did.”

“Listen, I’m really sorry but I just don’t have time for this right now. I have to go and find someone.”

“Who?” James called after her as she turned and wandered off down the corridor, but he received no reply.

* * *

 

James tried not to show any hint of embarrassment as he walked onto the pitch, his team behind him.

“Why do you only have four players?” asked Stebbins immediately.

“Because, my dear Spottins, that is all we need to beat you.”

The football game lasted a record breaking five minutes. Two whole minutes longer than the previous game.

James started off well. He managed to gain possession of the ball within the first five seconds. It was only when he passed it to Sirius that things went downhill.

“Why didn’t you kick it?” yelled James.

“I tried to!” Sirius called back.

“You stood still!”

“I was moving really slowly!”

Remus managed to pass the ball back to James who was suddenly surrounded by the opposing team. James tried to get the ball to Remus once more, but Tim managed to tackle him and had scored a goal in a matter of moments. The ball soared straight past Peter.

“Peter, you’re supposed to not let them go past you!” yelled James.

Peter shot James an apologetic look which immediately made James feel guilty.

The game carried on in this way for the next three minutes, until, by some miracle, the ball found its way at Remus’ feet. Remus looked up, saw James give him a nod of encouragement, took a deep breath, and began to run full pelt towards the goal.

Mckinnon got ready to defend any shot he might try to make.

“Shoot!” shouted James.

But Remus could not shoot. Remus had fallen to his knees and was wheezing heavily.

“Lupin?” James cried, running over to Remus. “Are you okay?”

Remus was unable to talk, his breathing growing heavier, but he gave James a weary thumbs up.  A crowd was gathering around him and James thought he heard Stebbins mutter, “Shit.”

“Oi, Peter,” said James, spotting his teammate. “Help me take him to the nurse.”

Stebbins and Jones parted to make a gap in the crowd so James and Peter could come through. Unnoticed, Kenneth picked up Lupin’s bag and coat from the edge of the pitch and followed James and Peter to the nurse’s office.

* * *

 

“There you are!” exclaimed James.

He had been looking for Sirius, who had been absent since Remus’ incident on the football pitch, all over the school and found him sitting on the floor in the Maths corridor.

“It was an asthma attack,” said James. “Why didn’t the idiot tell me he had asthma? I never would’ve made him play if I’d known. Are you okay?” he asked, just noticing the expression on Sirius’ face.

Sirius’ face had turned to white. It looked as though he might vomit.

“Sorry,” said Sirius, shaking his head to try and break his trance. “I just… I remember that being a lot funnier. I suppose I was seven.”

“What are you on about?”

Sirius looked up and met James’ eye, guilt evident, and admitted, “I might have done something very bad to Remus Lupin.”

He ran his hands through his hair and exhaled.

“Oh, stop being dramatic and spit it out, Black,” said James.

“Fine,” said Sirius, dropping his hands from his hair. “I came up with Wheezer.”

“You did what?”

“I came up with the nickname Wheezer.”

“Oh, you absolute fucker!”

“I feel really bad about it now! I didn’t realise how horrible an asthma attack was. I haven’t seen him have one since he got bullied into playing football when he was seven.”

“Why did nobody tell me that if he played football he might die?”

“I thought it would be funny.”

* * *

 

Mary painfully regretted sitting in between Lily and Dorcas at church that Sunday. While waiting for the ceremony to begin, neither girl had shut up.

“Can we please stop talking about boys?” she snapped, finally having had enough.

Dorcas and Lily shared a look.

“Mare, I’m not talking about boys,” said Lily. “I’m talking about Severus.”

“I was talking about boys,” Dorcas admitted.

Mary sighed, "Listen, Lily, I understand that Snape is being an irritating little twat, but honestly this is nothing new.”

“He’s doesn’t usually stand me up, Mare. I was waiting there for ages,” said Lily. “Plus, James Potter found me waiting and I looked completely pathetic.”

“Oh, What did James Potter say?” asked Dorcas enthusiastically.

But at that moment, Reverend Macdonald had taken his place at the front of the church and called for silence.

Mary felt a sudden rush of affection for her father.

* * *

 

Later that day, Hope Lupin showed Sirius to her son’s bedroom.

“He’s not in the best of health at the moment,” she explained.

“I won’t be too long, Mrs. Lupin” promised Sirius.

Hope nodded and knocked rapidly on Remus’ door.

“Remus,” she said through the door. “A friend’s come to visit you.”

“Coming,” he called back.

Whoever Remus had expected, it had most certainly not been Sirius.

“Two visits in one week?” said Remus. “I’m beginning to feel honoured.”

“You should. Can I come in?”

Hope left the two boys as Sirius entered Remus’ bedroom.

“Sorry about the mess,” said Remus, trying to clear some clothes to make room so they could sit down. When they were both seated awkwardly, he asked, “Why are you here? I’m not going to be persuaded into another football match.”

“No,” he stated, laughing nervously. “It’s not about football. Well, it is. A bit. But nobody wants you to play it.”

Reaching into the pocket of his jacket, Sirius pulled out a packet of sweets.

“Here you go,” he said, offering them to Remus.

“What are these?” asked Remus, eyebrow raised.

“An apology,” replied Sirius sincerely.

“For what?”

“For, y’know, calling you Wheezer and making fun of you and just generally being a git.”

Remus studied Sirius’ face for a moment.

“Okay,” he said finally, holding out his hand to receive the peace offering. “What happened to the football pitch after my dramatic exit?”

“Well, I got out of there and then James found me, I told him what a prat I was, and then made me go with him to the pitch so he could announce that in light of recent events he had no interest in playing football and was going to spend his lunch times indoors.”

“Why would he do that?”

“James and I might have had a little talk and I might have mentioned how our school has a chess club and he got very excited about it,” said Sirius.

Remus almost choked on the sweet he was sucking.

“James is joining the chess club?”

“Yes, do I have to spell it out for you? We’re joining the chess club.”

“Who’s we?”

Sirius rolled his eyes, counting off lazinly, “Me and James. Oh, and Peter probably. He comes in handy when I’m too lazy to do things for myself.”

“Which is always,” supplied Remus. “But, hang on a minute, you can’t all just join the chess club because I can’t play football.”

“Why not?”

“Well,” began Remus. “I mean… I can’t make people give stuff up for my sake.”

“True,” said Sirius. “But we want to. Well, James wants to anyway and I’m not completely opposed.”

* * *

 

The St. Albus’ Chess Club met every weekday at lunch. They never entered competitions and they rarely ever actually played chess.

Their first meeting took place the following Monday.

Sirius was lying with his back flat against the surface of a table in the far corner, dictating Peter, who was rummaging through the drawers of Miss Vector’s desk.

At first glance it might have seemed as though Remus and James actually were playing chess, but a closer look would tell you that Remus was attempting to reset the board while James was still moving his pieces.

“James, you can’t keep playing when I beat you,” said Remus.

“If you beat me then why are my pieces still moving?”

Remus let out a breathy laugh.

“Pettigrew, have you found it yet?” asked Sirius, sitting up. “It must be there somewhere.”

“I’ve found it,” said Peter. “I’m just not sure I should give it to you.”

“What does he want?” asked James, who was now trying to construct a tower out of the chess pieces.

“A stapler,” explained Peter.

“What do you want with a stapler, Sirius?”

“That is classified information,” replied Sirius.

“Let’s staple him to the desk,” said Remus. James shot him a look. “I was joking,” he added quickly.

“Let’s do it,” said James.

After sharing a nod, both boys abandoned the chess table to run and hold Sirius down, while Peter stapled his shirt to the desk.


	7. Heels Over Head

**Chapter Seven: Heels Over Head**

 “They’re baby flies,” said James indignantly. “How can you not know this?”

Remus scoffed, “Maggots look nothing like flies! They’re baby worms.”

James and Remus had both turned up unnaturally early to French. This was so James could try to finish (start) his French homework before the lesson to avoid detention afterschool again.  Angie had threatened to hide his glasses if he got another detention that month so James was counting down the days until October when he would be free to not do French homework once more.

It was bizarre that James had such an aversion to French homework, thought Remus, when it took him so little time to complete. It had only taken James about three minutes and had subsequently found himself deep in debate with Remus over what a maggot was.

“They’re definitely worms.”

“You’re delusional. Everyone knows they’re baby flies.”

This debate continued along the same lines until they were joined by a mutual friend.

“What are you two blabbering on about?” asked Sirius, throwing himself in the chair beside Remus.

“You never come to French,” said Remus sceptically.

“It’s lovely to see you too,” greeted Sirius.

“Enough of this,” interrupted James, leaning across the table. “Is a maggot a baby worm,” James shook his head as he said ‘worm’, “Or is it a baby fly?”

“Technically speaking, a maggot is the larva of a fly,” replied Sirius.

James glared at Sirius, leant back in his chair, and said, “Oh, shut up, Black. No one likes a know-it-all.”

“Why?” asked Sirius, grinning. “Were you stupid enough to think that maggots were worms?”

Remus went bright red in the face, causing James to perk up a little.

Seeing the three boys already seated at their table, Lily started.

“James, why are you here so early?” she asked suspiciously. “Sirius, why are you here at all?”

James gasped dramatically and cried, “It’s like she doesn’t think we’re good students.”

“Almost as if we’re not revered for our good behaviour,” said Sirius, wiping an imaginary tear from his eye.

Lily eyed them both suspiciously before reluctantly taking her seat beside James. When nothing out of the ordinary happened to her upon sitting down, she relaxed.

“Did you really think we were going to set a trap for you in your chair?” asked Sirius.

“I don’t trust you or James,” said Lily.

Sirius looked thoughtful for a second and then said, “Fair enough.”

“Hang on a minute,” exclaimed James. “Why did you only accuse Sirius and me? Why not Remus?”

“Because I’m a decent person,” said Remus.

James scoffed, “You also thought that maggots were baby worms.”

Remus blushed once more just as Sirius let out a roar of laughter.

“That was you?” spluttered Sirius, still laughing. “That’s so embarrassing!”

His voice went up in pitch from excitement. So manic was his laughter that he was left vulnerable to attack. With a swift kick from Remus to his chair leg, Sirius was almost knocked over onto the floor.

Lily let out a bizarre shrill noise that James could only suppose was a laugh.

“You alright, Evans?” asked James. “Because that was not a normal human noise.”

“That was me laughing, Potter,” she retorted bluntly. “If you were funnier you’d have heard it before.”

Lily felt quite pleased with her reply until she noticed that Remus and Sirius were both looking at her as though she were an exotic bird in a zoo.

“Fine!” she cried. “I don’t usually laugh like that. It was a weird noise. Can we move past it?”

James shared a look with the other two boys before replying, “No, Evans. We are going to spend the rest of this lesson trying to get you to make that noise again.”

In the space of the next hour, James, Sirius, and Remus had done all manner of things to make Lily Evans laugh.

James had shoved two pencils up his nose and hummed ‘I Am the Walrus.’

Sirius had blown raspberries into the palm of his hand every time Professor Vector sat down.

Remus spilled some water onto Sirius’ crotch.

And still Lily did not make the desired noise. Instead, she had fallen into a fit of hysterics, laughing fully and loudly at almost anything they did.

“I think we’ve given her the giggles,” said Remus.

“Why’s that?” asked James.

“Because she just laughed at Sirius touching his nose with his tongue,” explained Remus.

By the end of the lesson, Lily’s sides were sore from laughing so much.

“You lot are mental,” she laughed, her voice weak.

“Hilarious though,” corrected James.

“Yeah, whatever,” said Lily, still smiling as she stood up and slung her bag over her shoulder. “See you around. And, Remus,” she added. “I’ll see you later?”

“Yeah, I’ll be there,” Remus called after her.

Sirius and James both turned to Remus, questioning looks on their faces.

* * *

 

Had the Reverend Macdonald really thought about it, he might not have offered his tiny little living room up for the meeting. So desperate to please, he had not considered the obvious problem that would arise from trying to fit a large group of people into a tiny space. But then again, nobody knew just how many people would show up.

Over thirty people were crammed into the Macdonald’s living space, some seated on the ugly orange sofas, most loitered about eating tiny sandwiches and custard creams.

“There are so many people here,” whispered Hestia to her boyfriend.

“That’s a good thing,” replied Fabian, giving her hand a squeeze. “All these people want to help save the farm.”

Hestia nodded slowly, still not convinced.

“It’s just,” she said, “I don’t think we brought enough food.”

“Well, the meeting won’t be long. People can grab something to eat afterwards.”

“I need to make tea,” announced Hestia suddenly, letting go of Fabian’s hand and standing up.

“You can’t make tea for everyone! There won’t be enough mugs.”

“The tea is for me, Fabian,” she cried as though it were obvious. “I need tea. All these people are stressing me out.”

* * *

Lily was far less concerned with the amount of people who had turned up and far more concerned about two particular guests. Dorcas and Colin to be specific.

“Where’s Mary?” asked Polly. “She was here a minute ago.”

“She went to get the sausage rolls out,” said Janine. “They better be good, she’s been bragging about how amazing her sausage rolls are ever since she found the recipe.”

“I need the loo,” said Lily. “Cas, come with me.”

Dorcas had just stuffed an entire custard cream in her mouth.

“Why?” she asked, spitting biscuit crumbs everywhere.

Grabbing her wrist, Lily dragged Dorcas up the stairs and into the Macdonald’s bathroom. There was a lovely view of the village green from the window.

“What’s wrong? Are you pregnant?” asked Dorcas once Lily had locked the door behind them.

“What?” cried Lily, incredulous. “No! I just wanted to make sure that you’re okay.”

“Why wouldn’t I be okay?”

“Well, because Colin’s here. I know you haven’t spoken to him since the whole… incident, and you never take it particularly well when you see him. Remember when you spotted him across the canteen and you broke that can of coke in half?”

Dorcas sighed, “Lily, I’d just drunk a load of coke. I was filled with sugary energy. That can did not stand a chance.”

“That really wasn’t my point.”

“I’m fine, Lily,” said Dorcas, forcing an unnaturally wide smile. “I’ve been preparing for this. My last lesson was cancelled so I spent my entire afternoon eating biscuits and listening to ‘Love Will Keep Us Together’ on repeat.”

“Oh, Cas, really?” asked Lily, wincing. “You couldn’t have chosen a better song?”

“Don’t judge me, Lily. I know you listen to your mum’s Cliff Richard records,” said Dorcas.

Lily’s eyes widened.

“That is classified information that does not leave this room,” she whispered.

“Fine. Can we leave this bathroom now? It’s disturbing me. I mean, who has a toilet lid cover? Why is it so fluffy?”

“I don’t know, Cas,” said Lily, unlocking the door. “Why don’t you ask Mary?”

“I’ve always meant to, but I’m worried she’ll be offended. What if it belonged to her dead mum?”

“Yeah,” Lily snorted. “I’m sure that a fluffy pink toilet lid cover is her favourite family heirloom.”

“Oh, shut up, Lily. By the way, where’s Severus?”

“Trying to get his head out of his own arse probably,” said Lily in a light-hearted tone. “Let’s go find Mary.”

* * *

“I still don’t understand why we’re here,” said Peter, looking around the Macdonald’s living room at all the people.

“Don’t ask me,” said Remus. “The three of you weren’t actually invited.”

Peter and Remus were sat between James and Sirius on the smallest sofa out of the three in the room. Remus had complained that they should have left the sofa for other people, given that three out of the four boys had little to no interest in what this meeting was actually about. James, however, had sat down during Remus’ speech and Peter and Sirius had followed suit.

“Come on! As if they won’t be happy we’re here. It’s more support, isn’t it?” said James.

“Support for what exactly?” asked Peter.

“Erm…” stammered James. “That farm thing?”

“Lucky guess,” muttered Remus.

Sirius groaned loudly, causing Peter, James, and Remus (and a few other people nearby) to turn and look at him.

“You okay?” said James, who found it difficult to actually see Sirius’ face as they were both squashed on opposite ends of the tiny sofa.

“Look,” said Sirius. “It doesn’t matter what this thing is about. What matters is that it’s going to be entertaining.”

“Oh, really? What on earth would make you think that?” said Remus.

“Well, because if it’s not, then we’ll make it entertaining,” said Sirius, grinning.

Peter still didn’t understand, and was going to ask Sirius to elaborate, but there was a call for silence from across the room. Standing in the doorway between the kitchen and the living room, Fabian Prewett addressed the room.

“Hi,” he said, smiling, glancing from face to face. “First thing’s first, I’d like to thank you all for coming.”

* * *

 

The Mulcibers had the third biggest house in Sowsworth. Easily. They were incredibly proud of this and told almost anyone who would listen. Of course, they, much like the rest of the Richies, did not say they actually lived in Sowsworth. Because technically, if you stretched the truth an awful lot, they lived on the _outskirts_ of Sowsworth. That’s what they would say to their co-workers in London. Sowsworth was a farming village filled with the working class. The _outskirts_ of Sowsworth were perfectly kept streets with big gates and bigger houses. The people who lived here most certainly did not work on farms or in village shops. These people commuted to London and that made them a much better sort of people. Well, that’s what they thought anyway.

The Mulcibers were the second most pompous family in the outskirts of Sowsworth. This was something to do with a distant uncle having attended Eton and not much to do with the quality of person the family was prone to producing.

The Mulcibers were the first to offer up their house for guests. They did this to display the impressive size of their house.

This was why, when four young Richies decided to get together to complain about the Locals planning on trying to save the Prewett farm, they gathered in the large space which was the Mulciber’s living room.

“So what’s this farm bullshit?” asked Mulciber, who was lying on a velvet sofa.

“I don’t know,” said Avery. “Why don’t you ask Snape? It’s his grotty little girlfriend that’s doing it.”

Snape’s head snapped up from the newspaper in his lap.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” he said sourly.

“Evans is going out with Pritchard,” commented Rosier.  Avery looked at him questioningly. “What? I only know because my sister’s friends with her, isn’t she? You know Janine never shuts up.”

“A bit like you then,” said Avery.

“Oh, leave him alone,” snapped Mulciber. “It’s not his fault his sister’s an idiot. Severus, where are you going?”

Severus stopped dead. He had just stood up suddenly and begun to make his way towards the hallway where his coat was hanging.

“Nowhere,” said Severus. It then occurred to him that, aside from going somewhere, there was no reason for him to be standing. “Well, actually I was going to go home. My mum wanted me home early.”

Mulciber waved his hand lazily and said, “Ignore that woman, Severus. She’s a complete pushover anyway.”

Severus clenched his jaw, but he did not argue. He sat down once more and realised that he could have said he was going to the loo.

“I mean,” Mulciber continued. “It’s not as if your grotty father didn’t run the bitch. That’s what locals do. They slap their wives and fuck their pets.”

Severus imagined lunging at Mulciber and tearing at his throat. But Mulciber’s uncle worked in a law firm so he forced a laugh instead.

“Besides, I reckon you just want to go to that meeting,” said Mulciber, his tone harsh. “To support your little grot of a girlfriend.”

“Of course not,” replied Severus.

“Yeah, you’re right. You wouldn’t betray your friends, would you, Severus?”

“Never.”

Mulciber smiled to himself.

“Not like Janine,” said Avery, smirking at Rosier.

“She’s there as an act of protest or some shit,” defended Rosier.

“What does that mean?”

“I don’t know. It’s just what she said.”

* * *

 

In the Macdonald’s living room, everyone was listening intently to a young woman with dark skin who looked as if she had come straight from work, standing barefoot and holding a pair of heels in her right hand.

“The thing is,” said the woman. “They’re always gonna use the same argument. They’re gonna say that it’s their right to buy whatever someone else can’t afford. That’s what they believe.”

“Obviously,” muttered Janine, taking another sausage roll from the plate she was holding.

Polly giggled.

“Now,” she continued. “It’s none of our places to turn this into a political debate. They see what they see and we see what we see. If we’re going to do this then we’re going to have to do it by their rules. There’s no asking politely or begging or any of that rubbish. What we need to do is make sure that the Prewetts can afford to keep that farm.” James leaned forwards in his seat, unwillingly captivated by what she was saying. “Lily Evans,” she gestured across the room to Lily who waved to the room when they turned to look at her, “Thinks we should start with a few simple fund raising activities to get the ball rolling, and I couldn’t agree more.”

Kenneth cheered. An awkward silence followed this before a few people let out nervous laughs.

The woman gave Kenneth a polite smile before finishing, “Anyway, I think what we should do is take a ten minute tea break, get some ideas flowing, and then maybe we can start voting on what we should do.”

A large percentage of the room clapped and a few started talking and moving around, so the young woman smiled to herself and walked over to ask Fabian how she’d done.

James turned to the boys beside him.

“What about a Christmas fair?” he asked.

“What?” said Sirius.

“To raise money,” explained James.

“Are we taking an interest?” questioned Peter.

“Why not,” said James. “That girl was very persuasive. I liked what she had to say.”

“Yeah, she’s clever.” said Peter. “She’s McKinnon’s older sister Marlene and she’s probably the smartest person to ever live in Sowsworth.”

“It’s true,” said Remus. “She got into uni and everything. Didn’t even drop out.”

“Sirius used to fancy her,” said Peter.

Remus laughed.

“What’s so funny about that?” demanded Sirius, glaring at Remus.

“She’s so out of your league it’s unbelievable is what’s funny,” said Remus.

“What makes you say that?”

“She’s too smart and too good looking. Besides, she’s about five years older than us.”  

“Right,” said James, finding this detour in the conversation rather dull. “But what does everyone think of a Christmas fair? Or a Christmas disco? Is Christmas too late? How long until the farm’s lost?”

Remus furrowed his brow in thought for a moment before answering, “About six months. Are you really this interested?”

* * *

 

Polly Davies was not a big talker. If she found the need to speak it was always in a small voice. Nobody could tell you much about Polly beyond that. This was possibly due to the fact that, speaking so quietly and rarely, she never had much opportunity to tell anybody anything about herself.

This might have been why she had attached herself to Lily, Dorcas, Mary, and Janine, who spent more time speaking than sleeping. Sometimes they even spoke when they had food in their mouths, which made Polly feel a little queasy. But she liked listening to them. She liked their jokes and she liked how they never pressured her to fill a silence. Which is why she was sad that it had to come to an end.

If somebody asked her why Janine was her best friend she would not have an answer that extended beyond what Janine had always told her. Janine would say that they were best friends because Mary, Dorcas, and Lily were always going off with each other.

It was because of this that when Janine told Polly what she intended to do at the meeting, Polly promised she would side with Janine after the split that would inevitably follow. She also promised to help, which is why she did something so very un-Polly; she stood up in the middle of the tea break and called the room’s attention to her.

“Hello,” said Polly, quietly at first. Nobody noticed a thing. “Excuse me!” she said again, much louder this time. Slowly, heads turned towards her. “Hi. Erm, Janine wants to say something.”

Janine uncrossed her legs and stood, smiling at the room. All eyes were now on her. She could feel Lily frowning at her curiously.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” said Janine. “I would just like inform you that I do not agree with your cause.”

Fabian made a noise of indignation, spitting biscuit everywhere. Embarrassed, Hestia handed her boyfriend a handkerchief.

“I admire your perseverance and everything,” adde Janine. “But I don’t think you’re doing the right thing. Property belongs to people who can afford to own it. That’s the whole point of capitalism.”

Lily rolled her eyes so hard she thought she might have strained them.

“So, I’m just here to announce that I will be opposing this whole ‘Save the Farm’ thing. Also, I think that it’s pretty pathetic for the Prewett family to be happy to accept this charity. I know I wouldn’t be able to sleep at night if I took what belongs to other people.”

With that, she walked out, Polly in tow. She would have liked it to be a dramatic and swift exit, but she had to manoeuvre herself around people’s legs and the odd piece of furniture. Finally, after an incredibly awkward thirty seconds, the front door slammed behind the two girls.

“That hypocritical bitch!” cried Mary in outrage. Everyone turned to see the short brunette brandishing an empty plate. “She ate all the sausage rolls! Wouldn’t take what belongs to other people my arse.”

“And as always, I was right,” said Sirius, leaning back into the sofa. “This has been very entertaining.”

* * *

 

Fabian was fuming and had stormed into the kitchen. Hestia followed him, lingering in the doorway.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“I’m fine.”

“Do you wanna kick something?”

“Yeah,” he admitted. “I wish I was at home. I wouldn’t feel bad about kicking the kitchen cupboards at home.”

Hestia watched him, a concerned expression on her face.

“You know nobody else agrees with that girl. Everybody else is here to support you.”

“Yeah, I know,” he sighed, running his hands through his hair. “But is that a good thing? Am I actually just taking handouts?”

“You’re asking for help to protect your family. That’s not a bad thing. It takes a lot to ask for help, y’know,” said Hestia. He let out a groan. “It’s true!” she cried. “I’m pretty sure Shakespeare said something along the lines of ‘the bravest thing is to ask for help’ or something like that.”

“Shakespeare said that?”

“I said it was something like,” she defended. “It wasn’t a direct quote.”

Fabian chuckled and wandered over to her.

“Doeth asketh for help and thou wilst be brave,” he recited, pulling her into a hug.

“No, that’s just nonsense.”

* * *

 

Lily was trying to calm down Mary, who was ranting about Janine.

“She can’t just come into my house and eat all the sausage rolls!” she cried. “It’s just not on. God, Janine is such a bitch!”

“Yeah, what else is new,” said Dorcas.

Dorcas took a sudden sharp breath. Lily followed Dorcas’ eyeline and saw Colin walking over towards them.

“Mare,” said Colin, addressing his sister. “What the fuck is wrong with your friend? She’s ruined everything.”

Dorcas chewed on her top lip as she stared straight at the floor.

“She hasn’t ruined everything,” said Lily. “All she’s done is caused a scene. What we need to do is just carry on as if nothing’s happened. Let’s face it, Janine and Polly weren’t going to add much to the meeting anyway.”

Colin nodded slowly and backed away.

“Fine,” he said. “I’ll go find Marlene.”

Mary followed her brother. As soon as they were both out of earshot, Dorcas made a small high-pitched noise and buried her head in Lily’s neck.

“You, okay, Cas?” asked Lily soothingly, patting her friend’s head.

Dorcas groaned, “Oh, Lily, he’s not even good looking is he?”

“Sorry?”

“He’s not even good looking. He actually looks a bit like Mary. I’ve been all torn up over some bloke who looks like Mary,” she said into Lily’s shoulder.

“Well, y’know, he is her brother,” said Lily, giving Kenneth a thumbs up over Dorcas’ head, the fifth one she had had to give him in the past four minutes.

“What was that?” asked Dorcas, lifting up her head.

“Oh, I’m just making sure he knows I’m alright,” answered Lily. “He keeps looking at me like I might die of sadness any second.”

“You’re okay about the whole Janine thing?” said Dorcas, disbelievingly.

“Is it really bad if I’m more upset that Severus didn’t even turn up? I mean, I know things haven’t been good between us lately, but he said he’d come. I supposed that doesn’t mean anything from him these days though.”

“Lily, you’re doing it again,” sighed Dorcas.

“Sorry.”

“Just talk to him.”

“I will,” said Lily. “But, can I just say, at least Janine said what she thought. I mean, she said it in a really awful way, but at least she was honest. Severus can’t even do that.”

* * *

 

Once everything had settled down, Fabian took the floor.

“Right,” he said, laughing nervously. “Should we get back to business? Has anyone got any ideas?”

Dorcas raised her hand.

“Go on, Cas,” said Fabian.

“Speak slower than you usually do,” said Hestia, before Dorcas could open her mouth. “I have to take notes.” She gestured to the notepad she was holding.

Dorcas tried to speak three more times and was told to repeat herself each time so Hestia could write it down.

Because of this wildly entertaining exchange, Lily didn’t notice someone sneak into the meeting and stand beside her.

“Sorry I’m late. What have I missed?” asked Severus.

Lily started.

“Sev! I thought you weren’t coming.”

“Rubbish. I said I would. I just had to finish of some homework.”

“Oh, okay. Cool,” said Lily, a small smile forming on her lips.

* * *

 

“That was boring,” said Sirius.

The meeting had finished at last. Sirius had already stood up to leave, but other people seemed too deep in conversation to realise they were allowed to go. Either that or they actually enjoyed each other’s company. The latter seemed unlikely to Sirius, but, he supposed, boring people often like talking to other boring people.

“Can we just go now?” he asked, fidgeting impatiently.

“I thought you said it was entertaining,” said Remus, standing up.

“You did say that,” agreed Peter.

“Yeah, but then it got boring again really quickly.”

“I think James liked it,” said Peter.

“Well, it’s over now so we can go,” complained Sirius.

“Not so fast,” said James

The other three boys, who had started pulling their jackets on, looked at James questioningly. James was too busy staring at Severus Snape. Severus was talking to Lily about something (James was not a particularly good at lip-reading) as the pair leaned against the stairs.

“I’ve spotted something of interest,” announced James.

“I don’t get it,” said Peter. “What’s interesting about Snape?”

“I think you mean ‘The Football Thief’,” corrected James. “That twat is the reason my football is dead.”

“Technically that was Sirius’ fault,” said Remus.

“Oi!” cried Sirius. “I was trying to save it from that greasy bastard’s clutches.”

“Right,” said James, in agreement. “Which is why we need to take our revenge.”

“How are we supposed to do that?” asked Remus.

Lily was now pointing up the stairs. Nodding and moving past her, Severus began to climb them. James waited to see if Lily followed him. Fortunately, she did not. Instead, Lily pulled on her coat and followed Dorcas out of the front door, along with a large portion of the other guests.

“Follow me,” muttered James, tearing off after Severus up the stairs.

Sirius, Remus, and Peter followed James without question (but most certainly not without curiosity and concern).

A moment after the four boys had all convened at the top of the stairs, Severus left a room on the left.

“What are you doing here?” yelped Severus, glancing down to make sure he’d done up his flies properly.

“We just wanted to see what you were doing,” said James, bearing his teeth in a threatening mock-grin. “We thought you might have gotten lost.”

“I was going to the loo,” sneered Severus. “In an actual toilet like a normal person, not on somebody else’s jacket.”

Without a second’s hesitation, James sprang forwards, managing to wrap his arms around Severus’ waist, picking him up off the ground.

“What the hell are you doing?” cried Severus, whacking James around the head.

Remus’ eyes widened, but he stayed in the hallway with Peter as Sirius followed James (who was still carrying Severus) into the Macdonald’s bathroom.

“Put me down!”

“Open the window for me, Sirius,” said James.

The event that followed Sirius opening the window happened very fast. It began with James sitting Severus on the window ledge, Severus almost falling out of the window and clutching onto the frame for support, James grabbing Severus by the ankles, and Severus then falling backwards.

This all resulted in Severus Snape hanging out of the window of a second floor window, held up only by James Potter’s hold on his ankles. Quite reasonably, Severus let out a yelp and stream of cuss words.

With all the ruckus going on, it would have been a miracle if the straggle of people walking across the green, away from the Macdonald’s house, had not heard and turned their heads to investigate.

As soon as Lily spotted what was going on, she wanted to swear, but could not think of a word obscene enough to accurately express her feelings about this. What she could do was run as fast as she could back towards the Macdonald’s house.

“What are you doing?” she screamed.

James looked down and tensed a little when he saw it was Lily.

“Shit,” he muttered before saying, a lot louder and with a lot more confidence, “All right there, Evans?”

“Leave him alone,” she demanded, her voice shaking with fury.

She looked up at James as though he were excrement she had found on the bottom of her shoe.

A crowd was beginning to gather behind Lily (the people who had been with Lily on the green but not felt the need to run to Severus’ rescue). Kenneth tried to put a comforting hand on Lily’s shoulder, but she jerked away it away.

“I mean it,” said Lily. “You get him down.”

“Or what, Evans?” asked James, a flair of charm in his voice.

“Or I’ll tell Angie on you.”

“Oh, Evans,” James sighed. “Don’t make me drop Snivellus on you.”

Severus was still cussing, although he had become less and less coherent due to the blood rushing to his head.

“His name is Severus!” she cried. “Now get him down before you kill him.”

Lily sounded close to hysterical, but James just smiled.

“Okay, Evans, how about this,” he said. “I’ll get him down, if you go out with me. Go on, just one date with me and I’ll never hurt Snivellus again.”

Lily let out a cold, harsh laugh of disbelief, yelling, “Are you completely out of your head? I wouldn’t go out with you even if you weren’t holding my best friend upside down out of a window. I’d honestly rather shag a fish!”

Behind James, Sirius barked with laughter.

“Cheers, mate,” muttered James over his shoulder.

“Bad luck, James,” said Sirius.

Remus shifted uncomfortably in the hallway, while Peter tried to get as good a view of the scene as possible without actually entering the bathroom.

From under the window, Lily shouted up once more, “Let him down!”

“Fine, Evans, keep your hair on,” said James, trying to keep his voice as unchanged as possible. “I’ll need some help though. I can’t pull him back up by his ankles.”

Before Lily could ask, Kenneth had rushed forwards. He pulled a bin from round the corner and placed it under Severus. Then, with Dorcas keeping it steady for him, Kenneth balanced on the bin and supported Severus under his arms. As James slowly lowered Severus, eventually letting go of him completely, Fabian and Benjy helped Kenneth support Severus. It took about two minutes to get Severus standing once more.

Lily breathed a sigh of relief. Then, Severus fell over.

“Are you okay?” she asked, rushing to his side, crouching over him.

In reply, he raised a middle finger at the window he had just been passed through.

“You’re just lucky Evans was here to protect you,” said James smugly, calling down.

“I don’t need her to protect me,” spat Severus. “I don’t need any help.” His face had gone red with embarrassment. At least twenty people were staring at him. “Especially not from grots like you!” He spoke to the crowd at large, but Lily flinched as though he had slapped her around the face.

“Fine,” said Lily coldly. “I’ll leave you to sort yourself out from now on.”

James watched the scene unfold from above. Severus looked apologetic at first, but when Lily’s expression did not soften, he scrambled to his feet and stormed off. Lily crouched on the ground for a few moments before Kenneth offered her his hand. Slowly, the crowd dispersed. Kenneth and Lily were among them.

Just then, Mary entered the bathroom.

“What’s been going on? I’ve been trying to nap,” she said. James whipped around and saw Mary was in her pyjamas already. “Why are you four still in my house?”

The boys all exchanged awkward glances before leaving. Remus apologised at least three times as they left.

* * *

 

The curtains were closed and Lily was alone in her room, waiting for Kenneth to bring back chocolate. She wanted to do something. She wanted to kick Severus. She wanted to go for a run. She wanted to punch a wall. She wanted to cry again. She wanted Severus to tell her everything was going to be okay. She wanted her dad. She wanted to run away.

She had asked Kenneth once what he would do if she asked him to run away with her. Of course he’d said that he would, but that didn’t mean anything really. Kenneth was always saying and doing the sorts of things that good boyfriends should do which was lovely, obviously, but it made it difficult to know when he was being honest and when he was just being kind.

Lily let out a sigh and flung her curtains open to let in the last light of day, bored of being miserable.

There was a knock at the door, but it was far too early for Kenneth to be back.

 “Who is it?” asked Lily, wiping any possible trace of tears from her eyes.

She’d stopped crying a good ten minutes ago, but she wanted to be sure.

“Me,” came the reply.

It was Dorcas’ voice.

“Come in.”

Bursting in with a beaming smile, Dorcas shut the door and threw herself onto Lily’s bed. She was holding a plastic bag.

“Why are you smiling like that?” asked Lily, reluctantly matching Dorcas’ smile herself.

“I brought you a present,” said Dorcas.

From the plastic bag she was clutching, Dorcas produced a single.

“What’s this?”

“Just what you need. Here, I’ll put it on for you.”

Springing off the bed with more energy than Lily could even imagine having at that moment in time, Dorcas ran over to Lily’s record player.

“It better not be what I think it is,” said Lily.

“Why?” asked Dorcas, putting the single on.

Within seconds, Love Will Keep Us Together was blasting around Lily’s room. The two girls’ eyes met and they began to laugh.

“You’re right,” said Lily, through her manic laughter which would no doubt be a mere giggle if she wasn’t so emotional at that moment in time. “This is exactly what I needed.”

* * *

 

Dorcas was very quick to leave Lily’s house once Kenneth had returned, assuming that they had some very important kissing business to attend to and thinking it best to leave them to it.

She had fully intended to go straight home and devour the packet of biscuits she had brought with her to cheer Lily up, but had forgotten to give her. However, on the way, she stumbled across James Potter on a bench.

He was staring straight ahead which made her think that he probably hadn’t noticed her.

“Hello,” she greeted awkwardly.

James turned his face towards her slowly, looking only mildly dazed by her appearance.

“Hi,” he said weakly.

A long stretch of silence followed, broken when Dorcas raised her plastic bag, causing a rustle.

“What’s that?” he asked.

“I’ll show you,” she said, sitting down beside him. “Do you want a Bourbon?”

She held up the packet of chocolate biscuits.

“I’m not gonna lie, Meadowes, I would fucking love a Bourbon,” replied James.

She fumbled with the packaging for a while, but couldn’t quite manage to get it open.

“Let me try,” he offered.

“Thanks,” she said, handing him the packet. Her face fell when she saw him open it with his teeth. “That is disgusting.”

“Sorry. You’ll still want them back though, won’t you?”

“Of course.”

 “Good,” he said with a laugh.

They passed the packet of Bourbons between them for a few minutes, staring forwards, not speaking. The sun was setting over a distant field. A sudden chill settled in.

“Where are your friends?” asked Dorcas, rubbing her bare legs to keep them warm. “Sirius and that lot?”

“Dinner I think,” said James absent-mindedly.

“Oh,” she said. “I find it pretty weird that you all hang out together, y’know?”

“Really? Why?” he asked.

“Well,” said Dorcas. “Sirius, Remus, and Pettigrew aren’t people you’d ever picture hanging out.”

“It feels normal to me,” said James. “But I suppose I’ve known them for a lot less time.”

“I suppose so.”

Another awkward silence threatened to arise, so James asked, “What else is in your bag?”

Dorcas started laughing, which confused James, but he assumed all would be revealed soon enough.

“It’s a single,” she said.

“What is it?”

“It was to cheer Lily up.”

James’ expression went stony for a second, but he smiled once more when Dorcas pulled the single out of her plastic bag.

“Captain and Tennille?”  James scoffed. “Why are you listening to that rubbish?”

“It’s not rubbish,” said Dorcas. “It’s a very catchy tune and it teaches us a valuable lesson.”

“What does it teach us exactly?”

“That love keeps us together. I listen to it when I get sad over a boy.”

She stuffed the record back into the bag along with the empty Bourbon wrapper.

“How does that help? Surely it’s just depressing,” said James.

“It reminds me that however sad I am, I’ll get over it. Because whatever I had with the boy couldn’t have been love.”

“Because love would have kept you together?” he asked jokingly.

“Exactly,” she said excitedly, under the impression that he had understood and was not simply making a joke.

“Oh,” said James. “Well, I suppose that makes sense in a weird way. Are you cold?”

He had just noticed the goosebumps all over her legs.

“A little,” she admitted.

Before she even noticed he was taking it off, Dorcas was offered James’ jacket.

“I think I’m still in denial that summer is over,” she joked, draping it over her legs. “Thanks by the way. It’s good to know you can be nice sometimes.”

“Cheers.”

 “But you’re also a complete prick and if you ever hurt Lily again I will hurt you back. Physically.”

“I won’t,” he said quickly. “I really won’t.”

“Good.”

They sat in silence for a while longer, but the sun had set completely now and the air was growing colder. James stood up, sadly noticing that his arse had grown sore from sitting on the hard wooden bench for so long. He told Dorcas this. She glanced at his arse before remembering that you can’t identify a sore arse through trousers, especially not in the dark. You can, however, identify a nice arse, and James Potter had a very nice arse.

“I’m gonna go see if dinner’s ready,” he told her. “I’ll see you around, yeah?”

“Sounds good.”

As he walked away she felt her face turn slightly pink. Dorcas had a funny feeling in her stomach and she was quite certain it was because of James. She also felt numbness in her legs which he was to blame for, having taken his jacket with him and leaving her legs exposed to the cold once more.

 


	8. Mrs. Dorcas Potter

**Chapter Eight: Mrs. Dorcas Potter**

September had been a nightmare of sorts for Lily Evans, but October seemed to be an even more absurd kind of dream. More than two weeks had passed since the window incident, and Lily had not spoken to (or been spoken to) by Severus or James since. She was both grateful that she didn’t have to put up with their nonsense and disheartened that she had received no form of apology from either boy. Especially Severus.

Still, she had decided it was easier that way and soon enough found herself growing accustomed to her new life, one vacant of Severus and James.

That was, until the fourteenth of October 1976.

I t began in French class.

She sat down in her usual seat beside James and was greeted with the newly usual silence.

“Where are the others?” she asked, not thinking.

James seemed to snap out of a daze and looked at her as though she had just revealed herself to be a witch.

“Sorry?” he replied, blinking rapidly. “Oh, the others. Right. Remus has a doctor’s appointment and Sirius only turns up when he can be bothered.”

“Oh.”

That was the first conversation they had shared since the window incident. Silence fell between them for the remainder of the class. Only when the bell rang, signaling the end of the lesson, did James speak once more.

“Hey, Evans,” he said, as the classroom around them emptied. “I’m really sorry about the window thing.”

“Oh. Okay. Thanks for saying that.”

“And sorry for asking you out like that. It was supposed to be a joke,” Lily made a face. “But obviously not a very funny one,” he added quickly. "Just sorry for it all I guess."

“Thanks,” she repeated.

“Cool.”

“Cool.”

They stood awkwardly behind their chairs, waiting for a cue to leave.

“So are we okay then?” asked James, looking timid but hopeful.

Lily sighed, “Look, Potter, you’re not going to be invited to my birthday party or anything.”

“Fair enough.”

“But,” she continued, “If you ever need a pen or something I’d probably be okay with lending you one.”

“Thanks.”

“No problem.”

They stood in silence for another moment, before Lily muttered, “See you later” and left.

* * *

 

Lily found Dorcas and Mary in the common room at lunch. Dorcas was lying across a very stained sofa, her head in Mary’s lap. Mary was demanding Dorcas take her head off of her lap immediately.

“Oi,” said Lily urgently, sitting down on Dorcas’ legs. Dorcas yelped and sat bolt upright. “I need to tell you something.”

“What is it?” inquired Dorcas, attempting to free her legs from underneath Lily.

“I just spoke to James Potter.”

“Really?” said Dorcas.

“Why?” asked Mary.

“I asked him where Remus and Black were because they weren’t in French,” Lily explained, “And it was really awkward. Then at the end of the lesson he apologised for the whole window incident.”

“Do you forgive him?” said Dorcas, still wincing at the weight of Lily on her shins.

“I don’t know.” Lily shrugged. “I don’t care that much if I’m honest. I mean, I’m glad that I won’t have to sit in silence in French from now on, but at the same time I still don’t think he’s a great person. Oh, sorry, Cas,” she said, realising she was crushing her friend.

Lily stood up, giving Dorcas enough time to swing her legs to the floor before sitting down once more.

Rubbing her left shin, Dorcas said, “So you wouldn’t mind us being friends with James Potter then?”

“If you want to be. I really don’t care. But don’t you think he’s a bit… off-colour?”

“But sort of handsome. In a weird way,” pressed Dorcas. “I mean, he’s not always decent.” Mary snorted. “But, it’s sort of appealing. Like Dracula, y’know?”

“Like Dracula?” echoed Lily, trying not to laugh.

“I cannot wait to see where you go with this, Cas,” said Mary.

“You know what I mean!” cried Dorcas. “Dracula is evil and that makes him even more attractive.”

“No, he’s attractive in spite of his evil,” said Lily.

“James or Dracula?” asked Mary, amused.

“Dracula,” answered Lily. “He’d be far more appealing if he wasn’t evil.”

Dorcas scoffed, “Clearly we are watching different films.”

“Probably, there are about a hundred Dracula films,” said Mary fairly.

Lily laughed, “Remind me why we’re talking about the similarities between James Potter and Dracula?”

“No reason,” said Dorcas.

“Oh, really?” questioned Mary. “I don’t think you’re telling the whole truth.”

“What makes you say that?” said Dorcas quickly.

A small smile crept onto Mary’s face.

“What do you know?” asked Lily.

“I saw Dorcas doodle something in Economics,” said Mary.

Before Lily could even begin to imagine what this doodle was, there was a flailing of limbs and Dorcas was on top of Mary.

“Cas, get off you weigh a ton,” groaned Mary, her voice breathy from a combination of laughing and Dorcas’ knees in her ribs. “Seriously, get off me.”

“Not until you promise not to tell."

“Fine! I promise.”

Lily cleared her throat, calling the attention of her friends.

“I think you’ve forgotten something,” she said. “I can reach your bag from here, Cas.” With a smile, Lilu raised Dorcas’ notebook in her right hand. “Now where is this doodle?”

Dorcas scrambled to get off of Mary, but Mary grabbed ahold of Dorcas’ waist to hold her back from Lily.

“Jesus christ!” cried Lily, opening a page covered in love hearts and three words repeated over and over. “Mrs. Dorcas Potter? Are you serious, Cas?”

With a quick bite to Mary’s wrist, Dorcas was released.

“Keep it down!” cried Dorcas, snatching her notebook back. “I don’t want the whole school to know. Are you upset with me?”

Lily looked at her blonde friend, who was blushing considerably and clutching her notebook to her chest, and burst into peals of laughter.

“Lily!” exclaimed Dorcas. “It’s not funny!”

“It really is,” said Mary, who was laughing once more as well.

“I’m really sorry, Cas, but doodling his name in your notebook? We did this stuff when we were twelve!”

“I’ve never done that,” said Mary.

“I know,” whined Dorcas. “But I’m so obsessed with him and I couldn’t speak to him! I had to have an outlet!”

Lily frowned, asking, “Why couldn’t you talk to him?”

“Because he was awful to Severus and you. Not to mention he did ask you out so I had a suspicion he might be into you,” said Dorcas.

“Oh, he just fancied me a bit.” Lily waved her hand dismissively. “He was joking half of them time. And anyway, just because I don’t really like someone doesn’t mean you can’t talk to them.”

Dorcas jumped up and chirped, “So I can ask him out then?”

“Yeah, why not?” said Lily.

“I’m so excited!” cried Dorcas, hopping from foot to foot.

“Do you also need the loo?” asked Mary.

“Should I ask him out now? Or should we devise a plan first?”

“What would this plan be?” said Mary.

“Well, I don’t know yet, that’s why we have to devise one.”

“Why not just ask him to his face?” suggested Lily.

Mary agreed wholeheartedly with Lily’s suggestion, but it soon became clear that Dorcas was not going to accept such a simple solution. It was decided that they would continue this conversation later at Lily’s house.

“Are you sure it’s okay for us to come over?” asked Dorcas for the fifth time.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t it be?” said Lily.

“Well, I know it’s your four month anniversary. I don’t want to make you late for your date with Kenneth.”

“It’s my four month anniversary?” 

* * *

 

In the mood for a bowl of cereal, Lily made her way to her kitchen. If she had known she would be ambushed by her older sister she would have remained hungry until dinner.

“Afternoon, Lily,” said Petunia Evans, painting her nails at the kitchen table. “I heard you’re having friends over.”

“Erm… yeah,” said Lily.

Petunia made a disapproving noise and continued her work on her nails. Sighing, Lily gave in.

“What is it?” asked Lily.

“Vernon’s coming to dinner.”

“Okay,” said Lily, pouring milk over her cornflakes. “And I’m supposed to care because?”

Petunia took another moment to inspect her drying nails before saying, “Severus isn’t coming is he?”

“Why?”

“Because he’s an embarrassment. I don’t want Vernon to think we associate with people like that.”

“Why not? If he associates with you he must have pretty low standards,” replied Lily as she filled her mouth with cornflakes.

Petunia hissed, “You’re not funny.”

“I disagree,” said Lily, a drop of milk dribbling down her chin as she spoke.

“You’re disgusting.”

Lily opened her mouth to show Petunia the entire contents.

“Fine,” cried Petunia. “I was only going to ask you if you wanted to come with us to visit dad later. Vernon has a car so he was going to drive us to the hospital.”

“What time?”

“Straight after dinner.”

“Tuney, you know my friends are coming over,” Lily pleaded. “Can’t we go a little later?”

“Vernon has to work tomorrow, Lily. I can’t keep him too late.”

“Please.”

Petunia merely shrugged. Quickly losing her appetite, Lily stirred the soggy cereal in around the bowl of yellowing milk. As her older sister picked up her nail varnish and made to leave, Lily reached a decision.

“Fine,” she conceded. “I’ll tell Mary and Dorcas they can’t come over.”

* * *

 

Mary and Dorcas were sitting alone in the middle of the village green, shivering slightly as the sun set and the air grew colder. After Lily had told them she wouldn’t be able to have them over anymore, Dorcas had suggested meeting on the green instead, still in denial that summer was very definitely over. Mary had not particularly wanted to sit with Dorcas on the damp grass repeating the same advice over and over again, but she felt someone had to keep Dorcas from doing something ridiculous.

 “It’s cold, can I go home yet?” whined Mary

“Are you sure I should just ask him out?” said Dorcas.

“Yes. I really don’t know what else you’d do.”

“Write him a poem?”

“No.”

“I could get him to look at my legs.”

“How?”

“I could show him this scab on my knee.”

“How did you get that?” asked Mary.

“I fell over yesterday,”  explained Dorcas.

“How?”

“I was running up stairs.”

“Well, that’s stupid. Don’t run up stairs.”

“I know that now.”

“Can we go now? It’s cold.”

 “Okay we can go,” allowed Dorcas. “But first you have to promise me that you think it’s a good idea to just go up to him and ask him out.”

“I don’t think it’s the worst idea,” said Mary.

“Good enough.”

As the two girls gathered their cardigans and the packets of crisps they’d been eating, they were interrupted by two boys.

“Hello, ladies,” said the tallest.

“Go away, Mulciber,” said Mary in a tired voice.

Mulciber turned to his shorter companion and said, “Did you hear that, Avery? She doesn’t want me around. I guess we should leave then.”

Avery chuckled.

“What do you want?” demanded Dorcas, folding her arms.

“We just wanted a word with Macdonald,” said Mulciber. “We’d like to ask her to stop offering her house up to those stupid farm meetings.”

Mary let out a cold laugh, replying, “Why would I stop?”

“Well, it’s not very Christian of you for starters,” said Avery.

“How on earth is it not Christian?”

“We thought you might be able to tell us,” he admitted.

“Bugger off,” snapped Mary, nodding in the direction of the big houses in the hills. “We don’t have time for this rubbish. Oh, and remind Janine that she’s a bitch. I don’t want her to forget.”

“Have it your way then,” said Mulciber.

With a smirk, he pulled a penny out of his pocket and flicked it at Mary’s face. It narrowly missed her eye.

“Fucking hell!” yelled Dorcas. “What the fuck are you trying to do?” She turned to Mary and tried to search her face for injury. “Are you alright, Mare?”

“Fine,” whimpered Mary, blinking back tears.

She wasn’t bleeding, but her cheek had gone very red.

“We were just being charitable,” said Avery. “I thought that’s what you wanted.”

“Yeah, Macdonald, you seem to be all for people taking handouts. We just thought you might like some.”

Mulciber then pulled out a handful of copper coins and began pelting them at Mary. Not prepared to merely stand there waiting for one to hit her in the eye, Mary covered her face with her hand and ran back across the green towards her house.

“What was the point of that?” cried Dorcas.

“The strong do whatever the fuck they want to do,” said Mulciber.

“A Greek bloke said that,” added Avery.

“I think that’s a bit of a misquote but whatever,” she muttered.

“Shut up, Meadowes,” sneered Mulciber. “You’re much prettier when you don’t talk.”

“Well, you’re ugly all the time,” she said, before kicking Mulciber in the shin and running after Mary.

* * *

  
The next day at lunch, Lily and Kenneth had managed to position themselves in such a way that they both fit nicely onto the tiny arm chair in the common room.

“Kenneth,” she said.

“Yes?” he asked, twirling a strand of her hair around his finger.

“Did you know that yesterday was our four month anniversary?”

“No,” admitted Kenneth. “Did you?”

 “I didn’t even know that you were supposed to celebrate month anniversaries. Should we do something?”

“Like what? A date?” asked Kenneth.

“I suppose we could. We haven’t been on a date in ages.”

“Okay, that settles it. I’ll buy you dinner later,” he said, kissing her nose.

“Okay,” she agreed.

Settling her head into his shoulder, Lily closed her eyes for a moment before her mind wandered and she snapped them open.

“Hey,” she said. “Do we get each other presents?”

“We could.”

“I think we should.”

“Okay,” said Kenneth, still twirling her hair. “We’ll get each other presents.”

* * *

 

As usual, James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter had convened in a Maths classroom for lunchtime. The Chess Club were currently attempting to make a tower of chess boards, each with their pieces set. Their record so far was two (with Peter holding the second board in place).

“I’m bored,” complained Sirius.

“You’re always bored,” said Peter, who was helping James carefully balance another board.

“This would be easier if the kings weren’t so tall,” mused James, as the tower collapsed once more.

Remus let out a breath of laughter.

“Or if either of you helped,” said James pointedly, turning to Sirius and Remus.

“I’m eating,” replied Remus through a mouthful of apple.

“I want to do something more interesting,” said Sirius.

There was a knock at the door and all four boys looked up, confused.

“Do we have other friends?” asked James.

“It’s probably a teacher,” said Remus.

“Erm, come in?” called Peter awkwardly.

The door opened slowly, and a blonde girl stuck her head around the door.

“Hi, Dorcas,” greeted Remus. “What are you doing here?”

Entering the room, Dorcas straightened out her skirt and said very quickly, “Just wanted to talk to James.”

Sirius wolf whistled, causing James to glare at him.

“Could I talk to you, James?” she asked directly.

“Yeah, of course,” he replied, knocking over the new tower Peter was attempting build out of castles as he followed Dorcas out of the room.

James returned about five minutes later, alone.

“What did she want?” asked Remus.

“To go on a date with me,” James told them casually. “Should we try playing actual chess?”

“Wait, what happened?” said Peter. “Did you say yes?”

“Yeah, we’re going out tonight.”

Sirius raised an eyebrow and cried, "Hang on, Potter, why would you say yes to Meadowes? I thought you were madly in love with Evans.”

James threw a knight at Sirius, who in turn burst out laughing.

“I’m not in love with Evans,” said James coolly. “I just asked her out once. I haven’t even spoken to her since.”

“Because you’re too embarrassed,” teased Remus. “Because you love her.”

“No! Not because I love her. I don’t even really fancy her that much. I just asked her out because… I don’t know.”

Peter made a kissing noise and giggled.

“Look,” said James, trying his hardest not to throw a pawn at Peter. “I did fancy Lily. I’ll admit that.”

“Big of you,” interrupted Remus.

“And I did ask her out,” James continued. “But I’m not really bothered that she turned me down. Plus, Dorcas is really good-looking and kind of funny. Now can we just play a game of chess or something?”

The other three shared knowing looks, but did not say another word on the topic of Lily Evans.

* * *

 

Benjy Fenwick’s parents owned the post office and every day after school he was left in charge of it. He supposed he should be grateful that his parents trusted him enough to do so, but he was far more grateful that this meant he could eat all the jelly tots he wanted without his father reminding him that they’d rot his teeth.

That afternoon was no different. Benjy stood behind the counter, emptying the sugar at the bottom of a packet of jelly tots directly into his mouth. It was just then that a Lily Evans entered.

“Hi, Lily,” said Benjy, spilling a little bit of the sugar. “Oh, shit.”

Lily waved her hand in greeting, and then disappeared behind a stack of magazines.

Benjy entertained himself by arranging the contents of another packet of jelly tots in the shape of a smiley face as he waited for Lily to come and pay for whatever she had come for. After about ten minutes, Benjy became concerned.

“You, alright?” he called out to her across the otherwise empty shop.

“Yeah,” replied Lily, appearing from the middle aisle.  “But I could use a bit of advice.”

“Go for it.”

“What do you think Kenneth would like better?” Lily placed two items on the counter: a box of chocolates and a football annual. “See, I _know_ he’s going to like the chocolate because who doesn’t like chocolate. But, if he was going to like the football annual he’d like it more than the chocolates.”

“Okay, so get the annual,” said Benjy.

“No, but I don’t know if he’d actually like it. I’m just saying that if he did like it, he’d like it a lot.”

“Why wouldn’t he like it?”

“I think it’s for children. Should I go with the chocolates?”

Benjy sighed deeply.

“Oh, Lily,” he said.

“What?”

“Your boyfriend is perfect, he will like whatever you give him. If you wrapped up your toenail clippings he’d be grateful.”

“I don’t know about that,” she laughed.

“Oh, come on, Lily,” said Benjy. “Kenneth’s one of the few genuinely nice people in this bloody village.”

“People here are nice.”

“No, you’re nice. And in denial. Now which will it be, chocolate or football?”

Lily sighed, “It can’t be the chocolates. Chocolates are so boring.”

* * *

 

There was only one shop in Sowsworth that sold alcohol, so this was the shop that James dragged his friends to after school.

“You can’t pass for eighteen,” voiced Remus.

“I’m with Lupin on this one,” said Sirius. “You’re not gonna get away with it.”

James sighed, hovering by the alcohol shelf in the local corner shop.

“Does anybody here have any confidence in me?” asked James. Peter raised a reluctant hand. “Thank you, Peter. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to buy myself a few ciders.”

Grabbing four bottles of cider, James made his way over to the counter. Once he saw who was behind the counter, he stopped dead.

“James,” greeted Frank Longbottom. “Are you trying to buy booze?”

“Seriously?” cried James. “You work here? Are there only five people in this entire village?”

“My parents own the shop,” offered Frank in way of explanation.

“I’m surprised you didn’t see the sign outside,” said Sirius, joining James, closely followed by Remus and Peter.

“What does the sign say?” asked James.

“Longbottom’s,” said Peter. “That’s what the shop’s called.”

“Why did nobody tell me?”

“We thought it would be funny,” said Sirius.

“Pete, mate, I thought you believed in me,” said James. Peter simply laughed in response. “You utter bastard.”

Frank watched the scene before him, confusion evident in the folds of his forehead.

“Sorry,” he interrupted. “But could you put those back.” He nodded to the ciders James was holding. “Also, if you’re not gonna buy anything please leave.”

“Charming,” said James.

Sirius tutted and shook his head.

“What a way to treat customers,” he taunted.

Remus shot Frank an apologetic look over James’ shoulder.

“Look,” said Frank impatiently. “I don’t have time for this rubbish. Not to mention there’s someone behind you trying to pay.”

The four boys turned to see Kenneth Pritchard standing behind them awkwardly clutching a box of chocolates to his chest.

Kenneth replied jovially, “Don’t worry. I can wait.”

But James stepped back from the counter anyway, allowing Kenneth to move forwards.

“Thanks,” Kenneth muttered as he passed.

James tried not to meet his eye. The two boys had not spoken since James had asked Kenneth’s girlfriend to go out with him very publically.

“Let’s put these back,” whispered James, leading Peter, Sirius, and Remus around the corner, back to the alcohol section.

They could still hear Kenneth and Frank.

“Will this be all?” asked Frank.

 “Yeah,” said Kenneth.

“Present?”

“Yeah, they’re for Lily.”

James snorted. Sirius looked at him curiously.

“Well, chocolates are boring aren’t they?” he explained.

* * *

 

The Griffin was not just the only pub in Sowsworth but it was also the only place where they served food. James was beginning to learn that if you wanted anything in Sowsworth, there was probably one very specific place that offered it. If not, you were fucked.

Unfortunately for James, the only shop which sold alcohol was owned by a family who knew his age. Fortunately for James, the pub also sold alcohol.

Deciding that alcohol and food made a perfection combination for a fantastic date, the Griffin was where he had arranged to meet Dorcas at eight o’ clock that evening.

Except she was late.

James always hated being the first one to show up for a date. It made him look so keen. Still, hiding around the corner until Dorcas showed up didn’t seem to be a viable option. That was until he saw two people approach the pub.

Lily and Kenneth were walking arm in arm, both holding wrapped presents. She was wearing his coat.

Waving awkwardly to the pair as they passed, he felt his palms grow clammy and his jaw tense up. Kenneth nodded politely and Lily gave a small smile. James’ eyes followed them as they walked up the stone steps and into the pub. There were a few seconds before they entered as Kenneth accidentally pushed the door instead of pulling it. Lily shivered in the cold as she waited. Once they had disappeared, James’ gaze lingered on the spot where Lily had stood as she shivered.

“Oi, Potter.”

James whipped around and saw Dorcas standing behind him.

“What were you looking at?” she asked.

“I thought I saw a dragonfly,” he lied. “Shall we go inside?”

* * *

 

James had gone on a few dates with girls back home and they had all gone pretty much the same way. He’d take the girl out to the chip shop or the local pub where they’d chat pointlessly for a few hours before he walked her home. Then he’d get a peck on the cheek (or a snog if he was lucky) and they’d say no when he asked if he could take her out again. The closest he’d ever gotten to a second date was when he’d bumped into Poppy Bailey at the youth club and she’d introduced him to her new boyfriend.

All the girls he went out with always ended up getting boyfriends. He was never this boyfriend. For some reason they didn’t think he was the sort to have a girlfriend. It was probably because he had a reputation for being immature. Not that he minded much, he’d never wanted to be a boyfriend. He’d just wanted to kiss them a bit, and it was always polite to buy a girl dinner if you wanted to kiss her.

Anyway, the point was that James had gone on enough dates to know how they were supposed to go. He wasn’t sure how many dates Dorcas had been on, but the way she was acting you’d think she’d never even heard of one before.

“Why did you give up on Lily?” asked Dorcas bluntly

You weren’t supposed to ask your date about his feelings for other girls. Especially not a girl who was seated on the other side of the pub, hidden from sight due only to the fact that James and Dorcas were seated between the bar and the wall.

James choked on his sandwich, “I beg your pardon?”

 “Well, the other week you asked her out, right?”

“Sort of,” he said.

“Right, so you were obviously interested. Only I remember that you told me that blokes don’t give up on girls that easily.”

“When did I say that?”

“When you accused me of lying about the penis story!”

“Oh, yeah,” said James, grinning. “I forgot about that.”

“So you didn’t mean it then?”

“No, I meant it. I just forgot I said it.”

“But how can that be true if you’ve given up on Lily?” whined Dorcas, distressed. “Were you lying then or are you lying now?”

“Okay, I think we need to slow down a bit and figure out what’s going on,” said James. “What is it you’re asking me again? One question at a time please.”

“Have you given up on Lily?”

“Yes.”

“Why did you tell me that blokes don’t give up easily?”

“Because nobody gives up easily, do they? I mean, you’re not exactly giving up easily now.”

Dorcas groaned.

“What?” cried James.

“You don’t get what I’m saying.”

James sighed, “I get what you’re saying, Meadowes. I’m just avoiding answering.”

“Why?”

Staring down at the half-empty plate before him, James looked borderline humiliated. Dorcas softened.

“Okay,” said James, meeting Dorcas’ eye. “What I meant was that a bloke doesn’t give up unless he’s been rejected. If he’s been rejected he shouldn’t keep going because then it’s just embarrassing and… rude.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, and I think I’ve been embarrassing and rude enough.” He grimaced. “But the past is the past, eh? Here’s to moving on.”

He raised his glass of lemonade in a toast. She smiled back up her own glass.

“Here, here,” she said.

“By the way, I still think I could’ve gotten us booze if you hadn’t told the barmaid I was in your year at school.”

“I’ve known Alice Podmore since I was a baby,” said Dorcas sceptically. “She’s not stupid enough to believe you’re eighteen.”

“Why does everybody know each other? Are there seriously only five people in this bloody village?”

* * *

 

On the other side of the pub, Lily and Kenneth had just finished their sandwiches. The barmaid came and took their empty plates away.

“Thanks, Alice,” said Lily.

“No problem,” replied Alice, the barmaid. She was slightly older than Lily and Kenneth, with a round face and short, boyish, blonde hair. “You two have fun.”

When Alice had gone, Lily asked, “Can we do the presents now?”

Kenneth reached down for the gift by his feet, as Lily pulled hers from behind her. They exchanged presents with smiles and were both quick about tearing off the wrapping.

“Chocolates,” she said, trying to hide he disappointment.

After all, Lily reminded herself, she had considered buying him chocolates.

“Oh, my God, Lily!” cried Kenneth, holding up his football annual. “This is so fucking cool.”

“Really? I was worried you’d think it’s stupid.”

“No, it’s brilliant.”

Kenneth’s child-like joy was enough to cure Lily of her disappointment over the chocolates. Chocolates were lovely anyway. Boring, but delicious all the same.

Sadly, this moment of bliss was short-lived. Behind Kenneth, the door to the pub opened and Mulciber and Avery entered.

“What are they doing here?” said Lily, scowling.

“Who?” asked Kenneth, turning to see where Lily was looking.

“Mulciber and Avery just walked in. That can’t be good; the Richies never come in here.”

“Too grotty for them, eh?”

“Apparently,” she said coolly.

Lily watched as the boys wandered around the corner, where she knew Dorcas and James were sat.

“I think we should go and see what they’re up to,” she whispered.

“Lily, they can’t hear you.”

She shushed him as she got out of her chair. With a sigh, he followed her.

As Lily had suspected, Mulciber and Avery had made their way over to Dorcas and James’ table and had said something to make James jump out of his chair and clench his fist.

“Out!” cried Alice immediately, rushing out from behind the bar. “No fighting in here.”

Kenneth and Lily shrunk back, perching on barstools.

“We weren’t fighting,” said Avery.

“We were just talking,” added Mulciber.

“Oh, please,” said Dorcas. “As if anyone believes that.  They were fighting.”

“Right, all of you out,” Alice commanded.

“Wait, seriously?” asked Dorcas. “We didn’t start it though.”

“Cas, don’t make my job difficult,” said Alice pleadingly.

“Let’s just go,” said James, handing Alice a twenty pound note and leading Dorcas out by the hand. Avery and Mulciber followed, cowering a little under Alice’s stern gaze.

“Should we follow them?” asked Kenneth.

“I think that’s best,” said Lily. “But we should probably pay first.”

* * *

 

Outside, Dorcas, James, Avery, and Mulciber were standing by the stone steps.

“What do you want from me?” asked Dorcas, a little exasperated. “I told you in there that if you couldn’t handle a small kick to the shin then you should really be angry with yourself not me.”

“I still think you need a good a kicking,” said Mulciber slyly.

Avery nodded in agreement.

“I’d be careful, Eyebrows,” threatened James.

“Or what?” said Mulciber. “You’ll jump out of your chair again?”

“How about I hit you with a chair?” offered James.

“Lily!” cried Dorcas, seeing her ginger friend standing at the top of the stairs.

“I think our cover is blown,” whispered Kenneth.

“They can hear you,” whispered Lily sarcastically.

The four teenagers at the bottom of the stairs were all looking at Lily and Kenneth now.

“Evans,” cried Avery. “How does it feel being Snape’s castoff?”

Dorcas did not wait a moment before kicking Avery in the shin. Kenneth and James both released the fists they had clenched at Avery’s words.

With a whimper, Avery turned his attention back to Dorcas.

“Leave Lily alone,” she seethed. “This is just getting petty now.”

Lily and Kenneth rushed down the stairs to join Dorcas and James.

“How did you two even find me?” asked Dorcas.

“Janine told us,” said Mulciber.

“How did she know? Did Polly tell her? I bet my mum told Polly’s mum I was going on a date,” muttered Dorcas bitterly. “She always gets excited and tells everybody when I have a date. I think she’s upset that dad doesn’t take her to dinner anymore.”

Mulciber rolled his eyes and asked, “Are you quite finished, Meadowes?”

“Seriously, Eyebrows, do you practice being this much of a git or does it come naturally?” said James.

Lily let out a bizarre noise which earned her a couple of odd looks.

“It was a laugh!” she cried defensively.

James met her eye and raised an eyebrow. Lily stuck her tongue out in response.

“Potter, you don’t want to make an enemy of us,” said Avery.

“You don’t even want to know what we could do to you,” threatened Mulciber darkly.

“I can’t wait to find out,” replied James. “But for now, there are four of us, and two of you.”

“And I’m really strong,” added Kenneth.

“Thanks for that, Kenny,” said James.

Kenneth did not pick up on the sarcasm and stuck his chest out with pride.

Avery and Mulciber had, however, picked up on James’ point: they were outnumbered. Realising this, they began to back away slowly.

“You crossed the wrong blokes today, Potter,” said Mulciber.

“Oh, go and ice your shins,” said Dorcas.

* * *

 

Dorcas and Lily had both parted with their dates shortly after that, and retired to Lily’s bedroom for after-date gossip.

“He didn’t even try to kiss me goodnight,” moaned Dorcas.

“He was probably too distracted by the pathetic threats to remember to kiss you,” said Lily reasonably, stroking the skinny cat in her lap.

“He should have been too distracted by my lips to remember the pathetic threats.”

Lily laughed. There was a sudden noise from the window and if something had hit it. Lily’s cat Brutus jumped off her lap and onto Dorcas, who pushed him onto the floor.

“What was that?” asked Dorcas.

“I dunno.”

The noise came once more.

Pulling open her curtains, Lily saw Severus standing on her front lawn, about to throw a stone at her window. Upon seeing her face, however, he stopped mid-throw.

She opened the window and called down to him, “Severus? What are you doing here?”

“I have to talk to you,” Severus called up urgently.

“About what?”

“About what happened tonight.”

“Not about what happened the other week?”

Severus groaned, “Lily, I don’t have time for that now. I need to talk to you about tonight.”

“Go away, Severus,” said Lily, slamming the window shut.

* * *

 

Mary arrived half an hour later with the requested bottle of gin.

“You’re a saint!” cried Lily, throwing her arms around Mary.

“Yes,” said Mary, patting Lily’s back with her bottle-free hand. “Saint Mary. Famous for her divine ability to nick booze from her father.”

“Oh, hush, this was needed,” said Lily as she let Mary go.

“So what happened?” asked Mary, taking a seat beside Dorcas on the bed.

“Mulciber and Avery,” said Dorcas.

“Again?”

“Yeah,” replied Dorcas. “They were upset because I kicked Mulciber in the shin.”

“So she kicked Avery in the shin,” said Lily, smirking.

Dorcas shrugged.

“Seriously though,” Lily continued, “Those two boys need to learn things go.”

“Oh!” cried Mary. “Speaking of people who need to learn to let things go, Severus is sitting on your front lawn.”

“Really? He stopped throwing rocks about ten minutes ago. I assumed he’d gone home.”

“What did you say to him?” asked Dorcas.

“I asked him what he was doing there,” said Mary.  “And he said that he was going to wait until you came down to speak to him.”

Lily scoffed, “What if I don’t come down? Is he gonna sleep out there?”

* * *

 

Severus was sitting on her front lawn, just as Mary had described. He had been staring off at the house opposite and didn’t notice Lily behind him until he heard the front door close.

“Lily,” he said, scrambling to his feet.

“I just wanted you to know I’m only here because I was worried you’d end up sleeping on the street otherwise.”

“I would’ve.”

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

Severus looked at her with pleading eyes, but Lily simply folded her arms, waiting for a decent response.

“I need to talk to you. It’s really important,” he said.

Lily was filled with sudden concern.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

He walked towards her with and spoke softly, “I don’t trust James Potter.”

“What?” cried Lily, incredulous.

“Oh, come on, Lily. I know you’ve been hanging out with James Potter.”

“What are you on about?” she breathed, half wanting to shout and half wanting to laugh.

“Avery said that he saw you with him at the pub earlier. Also I heard you talking about him in the common room.” Severus turned slightly pink. “Something about him being like Dracula.”

“My God, have you been spying on me?”

“No, I just overheard,” mumbled Severus.

“Convenient.”

“Lily, come on. You have to trust me on this one. Potter is bad news.”

“Trust you?” Lily repeated. She let out a cold laugh. “After what you did? Do you remember calling me a grot?”

“It wasn’t that big a deal,” said Severus.

“No,” she admitted. “It’s not that big of a deal. But you know what it was? It was the last straw, Severus. You’ve lied to me, you’ve kept things from me, you’ve left me waiting for you more than once, and now apparently I’m a grot. I don’t know what you think being a good friend is, Sev, but it’s not any of those things. It’s not spying either by the way.”

“Lily, I’m really really sorry,” he said.

“Oh, just go away, Severus. And you can tell your Mulciber and Avery that if they ever mess with either of my best friends again I will devise an extravagant and merciless revenge.”

“I had nothing to do with whatever Mulciber and Avery did,” he said weakly.

Lily scoffed, “Why is it you know more about what I get up to than what Mulciber and Avery do to my friends?”

Severus gaped at her stupidly, unable to think of anything to say.

“Good night, Severus,” she said in a tired voice, turning back towards her house.

“He fancies you!” Severus called desperately after her. “James Potter fancies you.”

“I don’t care.”

And with that, she slammed the front door behind her, shutting Severus out.

* * *

 

Remus always sat between Dorcas and James in Maths. Even when he was off sick, which was quite often, Dorcas and James left the seat between them vacant.

That Monday, however, Dorcas threw caution to the wind and sat directly beside James.

“Hi,” she greeted nervously; they hadn’t seen each other since Friday night.

“Hi,” replied James, smiling.

“Sorry about Friday,” she said.

“Don’t be stupid, it wasn’t your fault. I’m just sorry you didn’t get to finish your sandwich.”

“Don’t worry about it. The food in that place isn’t great anyway.”

James breathed a sigh of relief. “Oh thank God,” he cried. “I thought it was just me.”

“No,” laughed Dorcas. “It’s always awful there. But there’s nowhere else to eat.”

“That’s rather depressing.”

“I’ve never liked dinner dates anyway,” said Dorcas. “I’d much prefer to go dancing, but our youth club shut down last year after an incident.”

“What was the incident?” he asked.

“I think McGonagall’s exact words were ‘indecent exchange of bodily fluids.’ Anyway, after that none of the parents wanted to chaperone.”

James looked thoughtful for a moment before saying, “Meadowes, what would you say to organizing a Christmas disco to raise money for the Prewett farm.”

“I think that’s a really good idea actually,” she said.

“Yeah, I get those sometimes.”

“It wouldn’t be difficult to organize if we manage to get some of the parents on board. Then you could take me dancing.”

“Brilliant.”

As James grinned at her, Dorcas suddenly became very aware of the fact that the notebook in her bag was filled with the words ‘Mrs. Dorcas Potter.’

“Hey, I forgot my notebook,” she lied. “Could I borrow some paper?”

He pushed his notebook towards her, distracted by the algebra problem Miss Vector had just started writing on the board.

Dorcas flicked through the book for a blank page.

“What’s this?” she asked.

James glanced at what Dorcas was pointing to: a doodle of a heart with the initials L.E. inside of it. He could have sworn his heart briefly stopped beating.

 


	9. The Disco Planning Committee

**Chapter Nine: The Disco Planning Committee**

 “Thanks so much for dinner, Mrs. Evans,” said Kenneth, shaking Lily’s mother’s hand as they stood by the front door. “It was brilliant.”

“Oh, call me Jill,” she said. “And it was lovely to have you.”

Once Kenneth had gone, Jill Evans retreated back to the kitchen with Lily, her youngest daughter, where they found Petunia, her eldest, scrubbing plates.

“He’s such a lovely boy that Kenneth,” said Jill.

“He is,” agreed Lily. “He’s… well, he’s really nice.”

Petunia scoffed, scrubbing more viciously now.

“You alright, dear?” asked Jill of her eldest.

“You’re always going on about Lily’s boyfriend,” complained Petunia. “You never say anything nice about Vernon.”

“Because there’s nothing nice to say about Vernon,” remarked Lily.

Petunia huffed, placing the last plate on the side rather forcefully.

“Well at least Vernon’s not boring,” she snapped, storming out the kitchen.

“Lily,” scolded Jill. “Be nice to your sister.”

“Sorry, Mum.”

But the word boring had hit Lily a little too hard. There was, in spite of her efforts to ignore it, a small part of her mind that agreed with Petunia. Maybe it was just the chocolate he’d bought her.

* * *

 

Less than a week after she had asked James out, Dorcas Meadowes interrupted the Chess Club once more. She marched in, proudly, James at her side. Remus, Peter, and Remus looked up expectantly.

“Are you sure about this?” muttered James to Dorcas. “Can’t I just buy you something nice?”

Ignoring him, Dorcas cleared her throat.

“I’ve decided what James’ punishment is for leading me on,” she said, clutching a lined piece of paper to her chest.

“I didn’t lead her on,” clarified James. “I just happen to have… more than friendly feelings for one of her friends.”

“Exactly. Leading me on.”

Sirius laughed.

 “Now,” she continued. “Time for the punishment.”

She turned the piece of paper she was holding around and held it up. The three boys could now see, very clearly, a doodle of the initials L.E. contained in a heart.

“James drew this. Now make fun of him,” said Dorcas, handing the drawing to Sirius before skipping happily from the room.

“L.E,” said Peter slowly. “Lily Evans?”

“Obviously,” stated Remus.

Sirius laughed so hard that almost fell off his chair.

* * *

 

Lily had not yet solved her inner conflict regarding Kenneth. As the lunch table filled up around her, she considered who among her friends would be able to help her. Just then, Benjy sat directly beside her.

“Hi, Lily,” he greeted warmly.

“Hello, Benjy. Hi, Frank,” she said absent-mindedly.

Frank had just taken the seat opposite.

“Are you alright?” asked Benjy.

“Benjy, you said Kenneth was perfect, right?” she said suddenly.

Frank choked on the swig of water he was just taking. Benjy shot him a look to which Frank responded by mouthing, “Sorry.”

“Why do you ask?” said Benjy.

“I can’t figure out why I like my boyfriend,” she admitted. “I was hoping you could give me an idea.”

Benjy wrinkled his nose, confused.

“Because he’s the male version of you,” said Frank in a bored voice from across the table.

“Is he? What do we even have in common?”

“Who do you think you have nothing in common with?” asked Mary, taking the seat on Lily’s other side.

“Kenneth.”

“Oh. Well, yeah, you don’t really have anything in common,” said Mary. “You both burn really easily in the sun.”

“Well that’s an awful basis for a relationship,” cried Lily.

“At least you can borrow each other’s sun hats,” joked Benjy.

“Can I say something?” asked Frank. All eyes turned to him. “If you don’t like him then why are you going out with him?”

“I do like him,” said Lily weakly. “I mean, he’s really really nice. But now that I think about it, I don’t know what else I like about him.” She groaned and ran her hands through her hair. “Oh, God. I can’t believe I never realised this.”

Benjy patted her arm sympathetically, but before he could say anything to comfort her, Dorcas came rushing over to their table, bubbling with excitement.

“I just humiliated James Potter,” she said. “It was amazing.”

“So you two are over then?”

“Yeah, it turns out he’s still into Lily.”

 “Are you sure?” asked Lily, turning red.

“He doodled your initials in his notebook,” said Dorcas.

Frank sniggered.

“Shut up, Frank,” said Benjy. “I saw you doodle ‘Frank + Alice’ on your hand in English.”

Dorcas squealed, “You fancy Alice Podmore? That is adorable.”

“Piss off,” said Frank.

“That’s just what you do when you fancy someone,” Benjy continued. “You do stupid stuff like that.”

“It’s true,” said Dorcas. “I’ve doodled the name of almost every bloke I’ve ever fancied. It was really awkward when I handed that essay into Mr. Barnes.”

“Why? What had you doodled on it?”

“Mrs. Dorcas Barnes.”

Laughter erupted around the table from all except Lily who just groaned again.

“What is it?” asked Dorcas.

“I’ve never doodled Mrs. Lily Pritchard,” she confessed. “Saying out loud feels weird actually. Oh, God. I couldn’t ever marry Kenneth.”

“Right, break up with him then,” said Frank. “Problem solved. Now where’s Fabian?”

Fabian arrived some five minutes later. When he did, he found Mary, Dorcas, Lily, Frank listening intently (some more than others) to Benjy, who was attempting to his theories about the future of Coronation Street.

“Sorry I’m late,” said Fabian, “But can we schedule this meeting for this evening instead? Hestia said she’d cook if everyone wants to come over to mine.”

Lily and Dorcas accepted the invitation, but Frank and Benjy had to work and Mary was having her grandmother over.

“Why can’t we do it now?” asked Mary.

They were supposed to be voting on what ideas to save the Prewett farm were best.

“Because I’ve got to get back and help my dad out.” explained Fabian. “By the way, don’t tell Hestia I went home early. She thinks I’m going to all of my classes.”

“Well, Cas and I will still come,” said Lily. “I think we can remember everyone else’s ideas.”

“Oh!” cried Dorcas suddenly. “You just reminded me of something. James Potter had a really good idea.”

“He does?”

“But I don’t remember what it was.”

“Can you get him to come along?” said Fabian.

“Yeah, I think I’ve still got some leverage.”

Fabian looked at her curiously.

“He broke my heart,” she added in casual explanation.

Mary was about to point out that Dorcas’ feelings for James probably had not been anywhere near strong enough for him to even slightly break her heart, but that was when Fabian said his goodbyes and left.

* * *

 

Surprisingly, it did not take much persuasion to convince James to go to the Prewett farm for dinner. All Dorcas had done was knock on his door and ask if he’d be interested in sharing his farm-saving ideas with Fabian and he’d snapped at the opportunity.

“Seriously?” asked Dorcas, still not quite believing it had been that easy.

“Yeah,” said James. “I really wanna help.”

“Wow. I had three different plans ready to try to convince you to come.”

“What was the first?”

“Reminding you that you broke my heart,” said Dorcas.

 “I thought we were even,” he said, scowling. “You’re not allowed to hold that over me anymore. Sirius did this to me.”

James pushed up his left sleeve to show Dorcas how his forearm had been covered in doodles, mostly hearts and Lily’s initials. Dorcas stifled a laugh.

“So we’re definitely even, right?” said James. “Because I think this is just the surface of the teasing.”

“Okay,” she conceded. “Now let’s go.”

As he reached behind him to grab his coat, James asked, “How else were you gonna convince me?”

 “I was going to try and use the fact that Lily would be there tonight to try and convince you to go.”

James looked thoughtful for a moment and then, to Dorcas’ surprise, decided he didn’t want to go after all.

“What? Why not?” she cried.

“I am injured.”

“Where?”

“My leg. I can’t walk,” said James, casually shifting his weight onto one leg and leaning against the doorframe. “It’s pretty bad.”

“Why don’t you want to see Lily?”

“This has nothing to do with Lily and everything to do with my injured leg.”

“Fine. Don’t help save the farm,” Dorcas snapped. “I just thought you really wanted to.”

James was hoping this meant he could shut the front door in her face and go back to watching telly, but she showed no signs of leaving.

“Besides,” she continued, “It’s not like it’ll be that big of a deal if the Prewetts lose their farm. Just that we’ll have to start getting all our produce from the village over the hills, the Prewetts will be homeless, and Sowsworth will most likely become overrun with wealthy families who love golf. Of course, all the locals will be pushed out of town as quickly as possible. Not to mention that they’ll probably try and make St. Albus’ a private school so any families who do stick around will have to find a way to get their kids to the next closest school.”

“Where is that?” asked James, sheepishly.

“Oh, only fifteen minutes away.” He relaxed a little before she added, “By car. Which most locals can’t afford. I suppose they could rely on the buses which come three times a day at very inconvenient times and often don’t show up at all.”

James let out a deep sigh before saying, “Fine. I’ll go.”

“Good!”

“But you have to do something for me first. Please just help me wash this off,” pleaded James, raising the arm covered in Lily’s initials.

* * *

 

Lily had arrived early in order to help Hestia and Fabian cook. Neither Fabian nor Lily could cook to save their lives and so had both been given bowls of vegetables to peel.

Fabian grimaced as he put a knife to a brussel sprout.

“I hate sprouts too,” said Lily.

“Sprouts are lovely and they’re good for you,” called Hestia from the other side of the kitchen.

Rolling his eyes, Fabian continued peeling. Lily followed suit, not saying anything but allowing her mind to be occupied by thoughts of Kenneth and their compatibility.

“Fabian, can I ask you something?” she said after a good ten minutes of silence.

“Of course.”

“What is it that makes a couple compatible?”

Fabian looked a little stunned by the question and then, after glancing at Hestia, shrugged.

Suddenly, Hestia appeared at Lily’s shoulder.

“Don’t ask Fabian for romantic advice, Lily,” she said. “He doesn’t know much.”

“Alright, Hest,” tested Fabian. “What would you say makes a couple compatible?”

“Just loving each other I suppose. Not to mention wanting similar things in life. Otherwise it’ll never workout.”

Lily realised she had no idea what Kenneth wanted out of life, not noticing that Fabian was shifting uncomfortably in his seat as Hestia went to check on the roast chicken.

* * *

 

 Dorcas and James arrived not long before the dinner was ready.

“You can lay the table,” said Hestia, thrusting plates at the two unsuspecting teenagers as soon as they entered the kitchen.

Lily briefly stopped draining the cauliflower to wave at the newcomers. Dorcas made a face back, but James merely nodded awkwardly and left the kitchen as soon as possible.

“Are you alright?” Hestia asked Lily. “You look a little flushed.”

“It’s the steam from the vegetables probably,” she lied. “I’ll start taking the food out to the table.”

* * *

 

James watched as the other four debated the pros and cons of utilising the church’s charity to fund the farm.

“The thing is that it’d still be the church’s money,” said Fabian. “They could do whatever they want with it. They don’t have to give it to us.”

“But they’d be raising it for the farm. I can’t see them changing their mind at the last minute,” argued Lily.

“Not to mention churches are historically pretty good at raising money,” said Dorcas. “Especially ours.”

“And the Macdonalds do really want to help.”

It went on like this for the majority of the meal, until finally Fabian turned his attention to James.

“Dorcas said you had a pretty good idea,” urged Fabian. “We’d love to hear it.”

James swallowed, intensely aware that Lily was watching him. Dorcas gave him an encouraging nod.

“I thought that a Christmas disco might be a good idea,” he said with false confidence. “If we charge people for tickets and food and all that.”

“It’d take a lot of work. I’m not sure I can ask that of people,” said Fabian.

“I could take care of it,” offered James.

Lily was still watching him intently as she spooned roast potato into her mouth.

“I’ll tell you what,” said Fabian, “If you can sort this out, then you’ll be a bloody hero. Don’t feel like you have to though.”

“But I want to.”

James suddenly realised that everyone around the table was smiling at him as though he were a two year old who had just managed recite ‘twinkle twinkle little star’ all by himself.

Deciding it would be best to disrupt this touching moment, James asked, “Fabian, why are there two of you in all these pictures?” He gestured to the photos which covered the wall behind the dining table.

Lily laughed.

“What?” asked James defensively.

“That’s Gideon,” explained Fabian. “He’s my twin brother.”

“Where’s he then?” said James, hoping that this Gideon hadn’t died in a tragic accident. If so, his question would really put a downer on dinner. “If you don’t mind me asking,” he added.

“Not at all,” said Fabian. “He’s at university training to be a doctor.”

James let out a low whistle.

“I definitely picked the wrong one to go out with,” teased Hestia.

Fabian’s jaw clenched.

“I think I’d like a twin,” said James before Fabian could speak.

“Two of you?” questioned Lily sceptically.

“Don’t worry. I’m sure the other one wouldn’t be nearly as bad as me,” he reassured her.

The corners of her mouth twitched.

“Being a twin isn’t always that great. Not when everyone’s always comparing the two of you,” said Fabian.

“I’d hate that,” said Dorcas. “I bet I’d be the ugly one. No offence, Fabian.”

“It wasn’t offensive until you said ‘no offence, Fabian’.”

“It’s not so bad having a twin,” said Hestia dismissively. “At least there aren’t two other families in Sowsworth with your surname. It’s always so confusing during the summer fair when we all enter the tombola.”

 “You poor thing,” said Fabian dryly.

Hestia responded by glaring at her boyfriend while chewing cauliflower threateningly.

The tension between Hestia and Fabian was rising to the point that even James, who was a stranger to them both, had noticed.

Lily felt a brief rush of guilt wondering if she had been the catalyst in this argument.

“Farming is a very impressive skill,” said James suddenly, attempting to change the subject.

“I could teach you some stuff sometime,” offered Fabian. “I’m gonna need some help around here when dad retires. Especially with my brother off being a doctor and my sister off popping out baby after baby on the farm across the river.”

“Lily,” interrupted Hestia loudly, staring directly at Fabian as she spoke, “I think I’ve got a better answer for what you asked earlier. The key to a successful relationship is communication. If you don’t tell each other things then you can’t trust each other.” She lowered her gaze. “What do you think, Fabes?”

“I don’t know, Hest, why don’t communicate what you really think?”

“I just did.”

Dorcas, Lily, and James all exchanged glances, but said nothing.

“Fine!” cried Fabian suddenly, standing up and gathering the empty plates aggressively. “I’m dropping out of school to work on the farm full time. Happy? Now you know and you can go off and marry some doctor or something.”

With that, he stormed off into the kitchen.

Lily immediately turned to Hestia to see if she was in need of comfort, but to her surprise, Hestia looked rather pleased.

“I’m sorry everyone,” said Hestia, smiling. “I think you should probably leave. Thanks for coming though.”

As they left, Lily, James, and Dorcas were all thoroughly confused.

“I’ve realised something,” said Dorcas, shivering slightly in the cold of October. “I’m probably better off without a boyfriend.”

Privately, Lily felt the same.

* * *

 

“Have you thought anymore about breaking up with Kenneth?” asked Mary over lunch the next day.

“No, but I have been thinking about James Potter,” she admitted. Mary raised an eyebrow. “Not in that way! I just think feels really bad about everything he’s done,” said Lily slowly. “That kind of makes me happy. Is that awful?”

“No,” answered Mary. “He definitely deserves it.”

“Good. That’s what I thought.”

“What are we talking about?” said Kenneth, taking the seat beside Lily in the canteen.

“James Potter,” said Mary

A little too keenly, Kenneth asked, “Do we like James Potter again?”

“What do you mean again?” said Lily.

Kenneth shrugged before confessing, “I think he’s pretty cool.”

“Then why don’t you ask him to play football with you or something?”

After glancing around to make sure his friends weren’t around, Kenneth said, in a quiet voice, “Okay, can I tell you something.” Lily nodded. “I don’t think James likes me very much. I might be crazy, but I just get that feeling.”

Mary rolled her eyes, but Lily cupped Kenneth’s face in her hands and smiled.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she said sweetly. “Who in the world wouldn’t like you?”

* * *

 

Kenneth took Lily’s words to heart and sought James out the following afternoon. Once James had gotten over the surprise of having Kenneth knock for him, he agreed to go to the Longbottom’s corner shop and purchase some sweets together.

“Had a good day?” asked Kenneth.

James responded with a grunt.

The conversation flowed in much the same way the whole way down to the shop, with James never using a word with more than one syllable. It was only when they were standing in front of the sweets that James strung a sentence together.

“Have you ever had an Aniseed Twist?” said James.

“I haven’t,” replied Kenneth.

“You should try them,” he lied. “They’re really nice.”

With a shrug, Kenneth picked up the packet of Aniseed Twists James had gestured to.

“Thanks. What are you getting?” said Kenneth.

In response, James grabbed a Curly Wurly.

Once they were halfway back across the green, James made to say his goodbyes, but Kenneth spoke first.

“Look, do you want to play football with us some time?” he offered.

James scowled and said, “I don’t remember that going too well the last time.”

“Well, I was thinking it would be less of a competition and more of a laugh.”

“I think I’ll pass. Thanks for the offer though, Kenny.”

“Listen, why don’t you like me?” said Kenneth suddenly.

James blinked silently in the face of this rather dramatic question.

Kenneth continued, “Because I’m not gonna hold it against you that you tried to blackmail my girlfriend into going out with you by threatening to drop her best friend out of a window if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“It’s not. But sorry about that.”

“It’s fine,” said Kenneth. “But what’s the problem then? I’m not completely stupid. I can tell when someone doesn’t like me.”

James tried to answer but he couldn’t think of an appropriate response. In truth there was so obviously offensive about Kenneth to cause James to not like him, other than the fact he was going out with the girl James had a particular interest in.

Fortunately for James, he and Kenneth approached and surrounded by Richies before he had to force out an answer.

“Oi, Potter!” cried Mulciber, moving to stand in between Kenneth and James.

Accompanying Mulciber were Avery, Rosier, a solemn looking but very beautiful girl, and a boy who looked young but familiar. Kenneth’s blond hair was just visible.

“Eyebrows!” exclaimed James in mock joy. “It’s been far too long. How are the kids?”

The girl rolled her eyes.

“This is Ascella and Regulus,” said Mulciber, introducing the two strangers. “We’re here to get you back for the other night. We realised that you might have been let off a little too easy.”

“We also realised that we could’ve easily taken you then since it was two against two,” said Avery.

“Two against four,” corrected James.

“The girls don’t count.”

“One of those girls managed to injure you badly enough to make you want to cause a scene in the local pub,” said James.

Rosier sniggered, but the boy who was called Regulus simply glared. He seemed to be taking this moment far more seriously than anyone else present.

“Excuse me,” said Kenneth, peering over Mulciber’s shoulder, “What exactly do you think you’re gonna do to us?”

“You’re free to leave if you want, Pritchard. You’re not the one we’ve come for,” replied Mulciber.

But Kenneth did not move. From his stationary position, he was given a rather grand view of Mulciber’s fist swinging into James’ face with a force so strong it knocked his glasses to the ground.

Nose beginning to bleed, James stood with a straight back.

“Is that it?” he asked, grinning.

There was blood in his teeth and his vision was blurry, but he could still make out the face directly before him. James managed to reciprocate Mulciber’s punch before Avery and Rosier joined in, knocking James down and kicking him. James could barely feel the damp of the grass beneath his back or the blood still rushing from his nose. Nothing existed beyond the pain of kick after kick. Ascella and Regulus watched on smugly, like apprentices watching their masters at work. It took almost no time for Kenneth to force his way into the fight. Pushing Avery out of the way, he bent down and tried to help James up.

“Pritchard, you don’t want to get on our bad side,” warned Mulciber angrily.

Kenneth ignored this, and lifted James to his feet.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Fine,” said James. “Thanks.”

But Kenneth was not allowed to escort James safely back home because Avery suddenly tackled the two boys from behind. James fell to the ground again, and Kenneth was dragged backwards and pummeled repeatedly by Avery, Mulciber, and Rosier.

Regulus ran over to hold James down so he couldn’t intervene, but being the stronger of the two, James easily overpowered the younger boy and stood up once more.

“Ascella!” cried Regulus, as James hit his face repeatedly.

The girl responded to these cries and, using the heel of her boot, kicked James in the side of his stomach. Letting out a cry of pain, James was left vulnerable. Ascella seized this moment to hold James’ arms behind his back. He closed his eyes, bracing himself for the inevitable beating Regulus was going to give him, but it never came. Instead, Regulus moved his face very close to James’.

“You’re not gonna kiss me are you?” asked James, dry blood cracking on his lips.

“I just wanted to tell you to stay away from my brother,” said Regulus.

“Who’s your brother?”

But in place of an answer, James received a spit in his face and a blow to the stomach. Then he was released, and the Richies fled.

James heard Ascella cry as they ran, “What did you do to him?”

Even without his glasses on, it only took a glance to tell James what she was talking about. Kenneth was lying bloody and unconscious on the grass.

* * *

 

If James had been surprised when Kenneth had knocked for him half an hour earlier, it was nothing compared to the shock Lily felt when she opened her front door to the sight of James Potter bloodied, his glasses cracked and supporting her unconscious boyfriend.

“Evans,” said James weakly. “I’m really sorry but I don’t know where he lives. Neither did Angie.”

Lily looked furious, but she silently helped James support Kenneth to the couch. She then cried, “Mum!” and ran up the stairs. A few minutes later she returned with a middle-aged woman James could only assume was her mother.

“Oh, good lord!” exclaimed Jill Evans when she saw James’ face. If he hadn’t been aware of how messed up he probably looked, he’d have been highly offended.

James watched Lily’s mother examine Kenneth who was now groaning in pain. It appeared he was waking up.

“I’ll drive you two boys to the hospital,” said Jill.

“What? No. I’m fine,” said James.

“Don’t be stupid you look awful,” Lily snapped.

 “I’ll be fine. I’m serious.”

“Well, I don’t have time for you two to argue,” Jill sighed. “At least help me get this poor boy into the car.”

James and Lily did just as she said and, when Kenneth was safely seated, Jill said, “Lily, look after this one.”

“Wait. I’m coming with you!” she cried.

“Lily, just watch him! I don’t have time for arguments just do as I say!”

With that, Lily’s mother climbed into the car and pulled out of the drive.

James was not sure which was more unpleasant; the lingering metallic taste of blood in his mouth, or the glare Lily was giving him.

“I’m really sorry,” he said.

She folded her arms and raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to elaborate. Expecting this to take a while, James seated himself on the doorstep.

“Did you do that to him?” she asked suddenly, her voice shaking with rage.

James started.

“What?” he spluttered. “No! Of course not.”

“Well, then what happened?”

“We were ambushed by Eyebrows & Co.”

“Who?”

“Mulciber,” he explained. “And some other rich kids. They wanted to get me back for pissing them off that night at the pub. They said Kenneth could go and just started attacking me. I mean, I’m not saying I’m a bad fighter or anything but can you really expect me to fight off three guys by myself?”

“And Kenneth tried to help you, right?” asked Lily, starting to tear up.

“Yeah. He tried to help and he got the worst of it.”

James was suddenly filled with the urge to kick something. Mulciber’s head would have done nicely.

“I’m really sorry, Lily,” he said. “It’s all my fault, y’know? If only I just stayed the fuck out of everyone’s business. I don’t know why I don’t just keep my mouth shut!”

Then he took his glasses off and threw them on the floor.

“James! That’s not helpful,” said Lily. She smiled at him sympathetically, still blinking back tears. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I’m sorry you couldn’t go with Kenneth.”

“It’s okay.”

“He’s a really great guy,” said James.

“He is,” she agreed.

“I kind of hate that.”

Lily let out a small laugh which made James smile.

“Okay,” she sighed, moving to sit on the doorstep beside him. “You’re gonna make me say it.”

“Say what?”

“Give yourself some credit, alright? You’re praising Kenneth for defending you today but you’re beating yourself up for defending Dorcas the other night. It’s really stupid.”

“Sorry,” he said sarcastically. “I’ll try to be less stupid the next time I get beaten up.”

“Oh, please, you’re fine.”

“They broke my glasses!” cried James, gesturing to the place on the driveway where they were lying after he had thrown them.

“I think you broke them more,” reasoned Lily.

“You know what, I can’t see properly and I just got my face punched so if you could stop correcting me it would be lovely.”

“Sorry. Do you want a cup of tea?”

“I would fucking love a cup of tea. Also, could you please grab me my glasses.”

* * *

 

James had not had the opportunity to tell his friends about the fight before lunch the next day. So when he walked into the maths classroom with a bruised eye and his spare glasses, Remus, Peter, and Sirius were understandably confused.

“What happened?” said Sirius, leaping out off of the table he’d been sitting on. “Please tell me the other guy’s looking worse than you.”

James answered, “If by ‘other guy’ you mean Kenneth Pritchard then yes. If you mean the Richie fuckers that ambushed us outside the Longbottom’s shop then they’re barely scratched. I did punch Mulciber though.”

“What?” asked Peter.

With a grimace, James told them the whole story.

“How’s Kenneth?” inquired Remus.

“No idea,” said James. “He was waking up when we put him in the car though.”

Sirius was scowling.

“You alright?” asked Peter of him.

“James, who was there? Who ambushed you?” said Sirius.

“Mulciber, Avery, Rosier, some girl named… something beginning with an A. And some little kid called Regulus.”

At the name Regulus, Sirius fled the room, muttering “that little twat is dead,” and kicking a bin on his way out.

“Who is Regulus?” asked James.

“Sirius’ brother,” said Remus.

“Sirius isn’t exactly his biggest fan,” added Peter.

* * *

 

Kenneth had returned from the hospital the previous night but did not show up at school that day. His mother was refusing to let him out of her sight just yet. This left Lily to explain to his friends what had happened.

They were surprisingly less distressed about the news than Dorcas was.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” asked Dorcas for the seventh time that lunch, stroking Lily’s hair.

“Pretty sure, Cas. You don’t have to comfort me,” said Lily.

“Seriously, Cas, she’s fine,” said Mary.

The three girls were sitting on a lumpy sofa in the common room. Kenneth’s friends had all left to play football almost as soon as Lily had relayed the news that Kenneth was home injured.

“Did it at least help you decide whether or not to break up with him?” said Dorcas.

“What?” cried Lily. “How could that help?”

“Well you might have seen his bloody body and realised how much he means to you and fell to the ground sobbing or something,” she explained. “That’s what happens when you’re in love, right?” Dorcas turned to Mary.

“How should I know?” she replied.

“No,” said Lily. “That didn’t happen. I think I need to break up with him. Not because of what you just said, Cas, before you get all excited. I just don’t feel that thing you’re supposed to feel.”

“What’s that?” asked Dorcas.

“You know what I mean.  That thing you’re supposed to feel when you really like someone. Kenneth’s a really good guy and when I asked myself why I liked him I couldn’t think of any real reason. We don’t talk about anything real, I don’t know what he wants out of life or anything like that.” said Lily. “So I’m gonna break up with him. Just when he’s a bit less injured.”

* * *

 

Sirius found Regulus around the back of the school, lounging around on the grass. This was where the Richies always hung out, thinking themselves too good for the common room. Sirius never went there unless he could avoid it. That lunch, Sirius was thankful the only two people there were Ascella and Regulus.

As soon as he spotted his brother, Sirius lifted him up by the collar of his school shirt and slammed him against the wall.

Ascella gasped and Sirius snapped at her to shut up. She was his cousin and so he was used to her irritating input, but he was in no mood to deal with her in that moment.

“What’s your problem?” cried Regulus.

“Leave James Potter alone,” said Sirius darkly. “Or I’ll make you regret it.”

“He started it. He’s getting too involved.”

“With what?”

“With the farm thing, with the locals, with you.”

“Oh, shut up,” Sirius sneered. “You keep yourself to yourself and I won’t make your life a misery.”

“If you make my life a misery then Mum’ll never let you have a motorbike for Christmas.”

“There’s plenty of time after December,” said Sirius, letting Regulus slide slowly down the wall. “I’ll see you at home.”

* * *

 

Sirius had no intention of sharing the fact that he had threatened his little brother with his friends, but when he met them outside the post office that afternoon, he realised he had no real explanation for why he had stormed out that lunch.

“I just really needed the loo,” he said quickly when James asked.

He knew that none of them bought this, but thankfully they accepted the lie and let it drop. Besides, James had more important things to discuss.

“I need you guys to help me plan a disco,” announced James once they were seated on the green with four cans of coke.

“Why?” said Remus sceptically.

“To raise money to save that bloody farm.”

“When was this decided?” asked Remus.

“I went to this weird dinner meeting about it at Fabian’s yesterday,” James explained.

Remus went silent, but he looked slightly aggravated.

“I want to help with that,” said Peter nervously. “I think it’s important to look after people who can’t always look after themselves.”

“That’s so sweet,” cooed Sirius. “Now go get me another coke.”

Sirius threw his empty coke can at Peter’s head, who threw it back at Sirius.

“Go get it yourself,” replied Peter.

James let out a laugh, but Remus continued to frown.

“I’ll help too,” Sirius declared. “Not only will it annoy my brother and the rest of my family, but I actually, don’t tell anyone this, care about this farm thing.”

“Well I’ve cared this whole time!” cried Remus, folding his arms angrily. “I was always interested and all I got was invited to one huge pointless meeting. James hangs Snape out a window and gets dinner!”

“Alright, Remus, calm down,” said James. “It was only because I told Dorcas about this disco idea on our date.”

“No it’s because everyone always forgets about me. I never get invited along to anything,” he complained.

“Shut up, Lupin,” said Sirius in a bored voice. “Peter, throw something at him.”

Peter obeyed this time, downing the last of his coke and throwing the empty can at Remus’ head.

“So it’s decided,” said James, clenching his fist dramatically. “We’re not just a chess club anymore. Now we’re a disco planning committee.”

 


	10. The Punk Disco Debate

**Chapter Ten: The Punk Disco Debate**

Lily had decided it was best to get this break up over and done with. Three days after Kenneth’s trip to the hospital was, she decided, enough time for him to recover to the point that she no longer felt guilty for ending things with him. To further alleviate her guilt, she reminded herself that Kenneth was almost certainly as in love with her as she was with him, which was not at all.

Her guilt reappeared almost as soon as Kenneth’s mother answered the front door.

“Oh, hello” greeted Rita Pritchard, giving Lily the usual look of disdain.

Rita did not think Lily to be a good match for her son, seemingly based solely on the fact that she didn’t to have ginger grandchildren.

This thought was what caused the sudden rise of guilt within Lily. She remembered when Rita had voiced this fear of ginger grandchildren over dinner, after which Kenneth and her had decided that if they did have a ginger child they’d name it Rita.

Even at the time she’d known that she’d never give Kenneth the ginger children his mother so desperately did not want.

“Kenneth’s got a visitor at the moment,” said Rita. “Would you like to wait in the sitting room?”

“If that’s alright?”

Unenthusiastically, Rita moved aside to let Lily enter the house. She then prepared Lily a cup of tea with an equal lack enthusiasm and a good deal of tutting.

Once she gave Lily the tea, Rita disappeared to trim the roses in the garden. Lily could not say that she missed the company.

At least she could feel grateful that she wouldn’t have to deal with Kenneth’s mother anymore after that day.

Just as she began to wonder how long she would have to wait for Kenneth’s other visitor to leave, she heard a creaking on the stairs. Assuming it was the mysterious visitor leaving, Lily went back into the hallway only to find James Potter.

“James,” she cried in shock.

“Lily,” he replied, equally shocked.

(Fifteen minutes earlier)

“Kenneth, you’ve got a friend here to see you,” Rita called through her son’s door.

Having expected Stebbins or Jones to walk into his bedroom, Kenneth remained in the position of lying on his bed in a t-shirt with several holes in and his oldest pair of underwear. As James Potter entered the room, Kenneth started and pulled a blanket over himself. He would have to remind his mother not to use the word friend so liberally.

The way that James’ eyes widened made Kenneth fear that James was judging his greying underpants. Then he realised that James was probably in shock over the huge bruise on Kenneth’s right thigh.

“You doing okay?” asked James awkwardly, leaning against the closed door so as not to intrude too much in the room.

“I’m fine,” said Kenneth.

He wanted to ask what on earth James was doing there, but there was no way could imagine asking that question without it coming off as confrontational so he waited for James to speak once more.

“In light of recent events,” James began, still by the doorway, speaking as formally as possible, “I feel as though it is my duty to inform you that Aniseed Twists are not nice. I lied to you. They are awful. They’re actually the worst thing I’ve ever tasted and once I drank beer with piss in it.”

“Why would you drink piss?”

“That’s not important,” said James, waving a hand dismissively, “The point is that you should never eat Aniseed Twists.”

“Then why did you tell me to buy then?” asked Kenneth with a frown.

“Because I thought it would be funny. But then you… well, standing up to the Richies like that was pretty cool. Even if we did get the shit kicked out of us.” James let out a breathy laugh. “But anyway, after what you did I felt kind of bad about the Aniseed Twist thing.”

Kenneth smiled and said, “Thanks for letting me know.”

Now that James had said what he had come to say, he was filled with the sudden desire to leave as quickly as possible in order to avoid any further awkwardness. Bidding Kenneth a goodbye, he left the room and made his way downstairs.

However, his hopes of avoiding awkwardness were dashed when he heard his name.

“James,” said a female voice.

James’ head snapped up and he saw a very confused Lily Evans staring at him. Without thinking, he ruffled his hair with his right hand.

“Lily,” he replied. Still standing on the bottom step of the stairs, James leaned over the bannister and asked, “How are you?”

“I’m alright. You okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Look, I don’t want to be rude but how come you’re here?” said Lily.

“I had business with your boyfriend.”

“Getting him beaten up again?”

James did not laugh.

“Sorry,” said Lily quickly. “I didn’t mean that. I’m just nervous.”

“Why are you nervous?”

“Never you mind,” she said.

Lily then looked at him meaningfully. He thought for a split second she might be gazing deeply into his eyes and had become spellbound by their hazel glory. Quickly, he realised that she was doing nothing of the sort and was silently indicating that he should move out of the way so that she could go upstairs to her boyfriend’s bedroom.

As she passed him, he noticed that she was anxiously wiping the palms of her hands on her tights. This filled James with the overwhelming urge to comfort her and tell her there was nothing to worry about.

In that moment he thought he must be completely in love with her.                    

As she disappeared from sight, James felt that perhaps he should leave.

* * *

 

After breaking things off with Kenneth, Lily felt no need to talk about it anymore. Mary agreed wholeheartedly, but Dorcas did not believe that it was healthy to move on so quickly. At least not without talking the whole break up for a few hours.

The next day the three girls were sitting in the school canteen, and Dorcas was trying to steer the conversation towards Kenneth.

“Lily, are you sure you don’t want to talk about it?” she pestered.

Lily sighed, “Cas, why would I lie to you? Now can we please just talk about something else?”

“I think my brother is failing out of university,” said Mary.

“Really? Derek?” asked Lily.

“Yeah, he’s really stupid so I’m not surprised,”

 “Do you think he cried?” mused Dorcas.

“Who? Derek?” asked Lily, knowing full well who Dorcas was referring to.

“No, I meant Kenneth,” said Dorcas, confirming Lily’s fears.

And with that, the change in conversation had failed.

Lily groaned, “Cas, can’t we talk about your boy problems instead?”

“But I don’t have any!” Dorcas whined. “Ever since Hestia and Fabian had that fight over dinner, I’ve realised that I don’t really want a boyfriend.”

“So let’s just not talk about boys,” suggested Mary.

“But that’s boring,” said Dorcas, picking at her sandwich crusts moodily.

“Cas, why don’t we talk about maybe writing an article on the farm for your next newsletter?” said Lily. “We should have done it last month as well.”

“I didn’t even write one last month though, did I?” said Dorcas wistfully. “All because I want distracted by boys. Okay!” She slammed her hand down onto the table causing two girls from the next table to turn and gawk. “No more boy drama. From here on out I will concentrate on more important things.”

“Me too,” said Lily. “I can’t be tied down by a boyfriend anyway. I’ve got stuff to do.”

“So what should we talk about?” asked Dorcas, looking at Mary for some guidance.

“Well,” said Mary, smiling. “Now that we’ve sworn off romance conversation, maybe I can get a word in?”

“Go ahead, Mare.”

“Well, for starters, have you heard that Caradoc’s moved back into the Dearborn house?”

Mary then took a gleeful bite of her apple and waited for a response.

* * *

 

As lunch neared its end, Sirius, Remus, and Peter were left thinking that James was not going to show up to Chess Club that day.

By the time James did arrive, an argument had ensued between the three boys.

“Sirius, I think you need to calm down,” said Remus. “We’re gonna have to play disco music, okay?”

“Some disco is good anyway,” said Peter. Sirius shot him a look that could kill. “Not all disco,” he added quickly. “Not even most. Just some.”

“All disco is evil,” snapped Sirius, as though that settled the matter.

Remus gave Peter a small nod before beginning to whistle ‘The Hustle’. With a smile, Peter joined in.

“I hate you both,” said Sirius.

Just then a third party joined in the whistling: James had entered the room.

“What’s going on? Why are we Hustling?” asked James, giving a small shimmy.

“We’re trying to figure out what music we’ll need for the disco,” explained Peter. “Sirius doesn’t want any disco music.”

“Yeah disco music at a disco would be weird,” mocked James.  “Out of curiosity, Sirius, what music did you think would be better suited for a disco?”

“Punk,” Remus answered for him.

“Don’t pretend like a punk disco wouldn’t be fucking cool!” cried Sirius defensively.

“Something tells me people are gonna want us to play Dancing Queen,” said James.

Sirius looked as though he was going to raise an argument against Dancing Queen, but James made a swift change in conversation before the debate could continue any further.

“Look,” said James, “Enough of this music nonsense. I’ve got a plan to get the Richies back for what they did to me and my glasses.” He thought for a moment before adding, “And Kenneth.”

“What’s the plan?” asked Peter nervously.

James turned and directed his next comment at Sirius, “You’re not going to like it.”

“Why not?” said Sirius.

“Does it involve ABBA music?” teased Remus.

“It involves going to one of those dinner parties you’re always avoiding,” said James, wincing before Sirius could even respond.

However, the anger James expected did not come. He did not even attempt to argue. In fact, Sirius was smiling.

“Do I get to spoil the dinner party?” asked Sirius, grinning like a mad man.

“Of course,” said James.

“By the way, where have you been?” said Remus.

“I was rescuing a child from the roof of the church.”

“Really?” said Peter, eyes widening.

“No, I had detention,” James admitted. “Anyway, let’s talk about just how much disco we’ll need to play at this disco. I’m thinking mostly ABBA. What do you think, Sirius?”

* * *

 

With a good six school years between them, Dorcas Meadowes could not remember much about Caradoc Dearborn. She knew that his family were incredibly wealthy and powerful, that the Dearborn’s had bought an house in the poshest road in Sowsworth, inhabited it for three years, and then disappeared without so much as a goodbye.

This had given the Dearborn family an unusual air of mystery, and the empty house in the middle of Hangleton road had been subject to much gossip for six and a half years.  The empty house was all Dorcas really recalled about the Dearborns. It was all most people remembered.

Dorcas had made her way up the hill and climbed over the gate to Hangleton road. Walking past many mansions, she eventually found the Dearborn house. It was a god-awful mock Tudor monstrosity, but with the front lawn left to grow wild it almost looked cool. She made her way up the path, weeds brushing her ankles, and knocked on the front door. It took Caradoc three minutes to answer the door and it took Dorcas a further thirty seconds to imagine what her signature would look like if her name were ‘Mrs. Dorcas Dearborn’.

Caradoc, despite being six years her senior, could only have been an inch taller than Dorcas. His hair was dark, his suit was brown, and his smile was warm. That was all she registered in those thirty seconds and still she was worrying about the possibility of changing her last name to Dearborn having to deal with the unfortunate alliteration.

“Can I help you?” he asked.

“Caradoc?”

“Yes, that’s me,” he said.

“Hi,” said Dorcas breathlessly, deciding his face was quite beautiful. “Sorry, my name is Dorcas Meadowes. Would it be okay if I interviewed you for my newsletter?”

“That depends. What would you like to ask me?”

“What is your honest opinion of the Prewett farm business?”

He opened his mouth, closed it again, and frowned.

“I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about,” he said. “I’m not exactly up to date on village gossip. I haven’t actually lived here for six years.”

“Well, can I explain the situation to you?”

“Alright,” he allowed. “Come inside and I’ll make us some tea.”

“Okay,” she said, her blue eyes lighting up.

In the next thirty minutes, Dorcas learnt that, in 1960, Caradoc’s father had purchased a rather successful company which designed logos. After this, he had relocated his family to a new house in Richmond so he could be close to his work. The house in Sowsworth had been left behind, to be sold at a later date. This was why Caradoc had come back. His father had given the property to Caradoc for his twenty-first birthday, saying that he could do whatever he wished with it.

Caradoc wished to sell it as quickly as possible. After this, he would move back to London and vow to never again go farther west than Surrey.

Due to his general indifference towards Sowsworth, Caradoc declined providing any assistance in saving the Prewett farm. He did, however, allow Dorcas the right to quote him as “hoping that the Prewetts would find a way to keep their farm,” even if he had nothing to do with it.

“Will that be all?” he asked.

The two were seated in his sitting room, on two very dusty arm chairs. The tea had turned cold a while ago.

“Unless you want to tell me anything else?” said Dorcas hopefully.

“I think that’ll do for today.”

Caradoc stood, indicating that Dorcas should do the same. He showed her the door and shook her hand in parting.

As Dorcas made her way back down the hill to the village, she found that Love Will Keep Us Together had somehow got stuck in her head. She hummed the tune for the rest of the day.

* * *

 

Sirius Black had not attended a single dinner party since the age of seven. This was the age that Angie Potter had seen the lonely little boy through her living room window, hitting an oak tree with a cricket bat. She asked if he’d like to stay for dinner. Angie had introduced him to the various elderly members of the community, and they had taken quite a liking to Sirius. He had not eaten dinner with his family since then, eating instead with the handful of elderly people down in the village who had either never had children or had children who were grown up and far away. Sirius did not mind acting in the role of son every evening in the slightest.

 Until James Potter had come to Sowsworth, these old women and men were the closest things to friends Sirius had ever had. But now, Sirius had friends. He had three friends who he liked more than he could have ever imagined, and it was because of these three friends that he was breaking the rule he had always considered unbreakable: he was going to a dinner party with the Richies.

Still, at least he had Peter to keep him company.

They had snuck into the kitchen of the Rosier’s house almost as soon as the party had begun, avoiding any possible conversation with the Richies. It was in the kitchen that Sirius and Peter brought James’ master plan to life.

“Have you got the bottle?” asked Sirius.

Grimacing, Peter held up the plastic bottle of yellow liquid.

Sirius found the Babycham glasses in a cabinet, and set out a dozen on a tray. The Babycham itself was in a crate in the pantry.

Before Peter could pour a little of the contents of the plastic bottle into each glass, Sirius reminded him, “not too much, yeah? We don’t want them to be able to tell before they drink it.”

“I’m not stupid,” snapped Peter.

Afterwards, they topped up each glass with the Babycham itself.

“Right, now you hand these out to the Richies. Not the adults though, we don’t want to get in too much trouble,” ordered Sirius.

“No,” said Peter defiantly. “You can’t keep telling me what to do.”

“Look, Pete, I realise you’re trying to stand up for yourself and I’m very proud of you and all that rubbish, but you really do need to be the one to hand out the drinks.”

“Why?”

“Don’t you think it will look a little suspicious if I’m being at all helpful?” reasoned Sirius.

“Good point,” said Peter.

* * *

 

Unable to attend the dinner party without arousing too much suspicion, James and Remus decided to wait for Sirius and Peter at James’ house. As they waited, Remus was drawing up posters advertising the disco using James’ bedroom floor as a table.

“You’re pretty good at drawing,” said James, looking over the posters Remus had already finished.

The pictures weren’t exactly intricate but Remus could still draw a better disco ball than James could.

“Well, when you can’t play football with the other boys, you have to find other stuff to entertain you,” said Remus, writing the ticket price at the bottom of one of the posters.

“Hey, how accurate would you be able to draw a naked woman?”

Remus considered James’ question for a good minute, before replying, “Not accurate enough.”

“Fair enough,” James sighed.

He then reached for the pack of crayons on the bed and began to colour in the posters Remus had finished drawing.

“Hey, James, can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“It’s about your master plan.”

James rolled his eyes and said, “I’ve already told you how I got the idea.”

“Yeah, I know. You once drank a pint of beer which was half piss.”

“And it was fucking disgusting so obviously the perfect revenge against the Richies is to get them to drink my piss.”

“But I still have a question.”

“Which is?”

“Why did you drink the whole pint?” asked Remus.

James shrugged, tossing the purple crayon aside and grabbing a green one.

“I suppose,” said James slowly. “It was a pride thing.”

“How does that save your pride?”

“Because if I’d spat it out or something it would’ve been a sign of weakness,” James explained. “I had to down the whole thing otherwise he’d have won.”

Remus pulled a face of disgust.

“James,” he said. “You drank his piss. I’m pretty sure that means he won.”

* * *

 

Janine sorely wished that her political views were shared by more pleasant people. If she hadn’t been so firm in her love of capitalism, she would never have abandoned Lily, Dorcas, and Mary. Polly was lovely and all that, but she rarely disagreed with anything Janine had to say, and that could be tiresome.

Janine’s mother had allowed her to invite Polly to the dinner party that night because Polly could fit into one of Janine’s old, expensive dresses, and she’d keep quiet. Dorcas and Lily would have laughed loudly and mocked everything. Not mention that they’d have worn cheap clothes and lipstick. Mary would have sat there, scowling at the extravagance, complaining that the whole thing was a waste of good money. None of them would have kept their political opinions to themselves. The best thing about Polly, in the eyes of Janine’s family, was her complete lack of political opinion.

“Janine,” said Polly in a worried voice. “Are you sure there won’t be any fish for dinner?”

“Yes, Pol, I’m sure,” replied an exasperated Janine.

She had answered this question at least five times already.

Just then, Peter Pettigrew came over, carrying a tray of Babycham, and offered the two girls a drink. They accepted one each.

“It’s just that fish is so rich. You know I can’t stomach strong flavours,” said Polly, raising her glass to her lips.

* * *

 

“Who knew Remus was so good at drawing,” Sirius mused, watching James staple a poster to a pin board down the English corridor.

“I know,” said James, standing back to look at the drawing.

“He’s really a solid okay when it comes to art.”

“He really is.”

The two boys were promptly interrupted by Lily Evans calling James’ name down the corridor.

“Oi, Potter!” she cried, making her way over to them.

“How did you find out?” asked James.

“How did I find out what?” said Lily.

“You’re not angry at me?”

“No, I was going to ask what you were stapling to the wall. Why what have you done?”

Sirius muffled laughter behind his hand.

“What did you do, James?” she asked, half curious, half concerned.

“In my defense I did it in the name of revenge against the people that caused serious pain to me,” he thought for a moment before adding, “And your boyfriend.”

“Oh, we broke up,” said Lily in an off-hand manner. “But anyway what did you do?”

James tried his hardest to ignore the fact that Lily had just informed him that the girl of his dreams was currently unattached (which was made exceptionally difficult given that Sirius had been poking him in the back ever since she had said the words “we broke up”) and instead concentrate on revealing his master plan to her in such a way that would not encourage any sort of anger towards him.

“Well, Evans,” he began cautiously. “I figured that the Richies needed some payback for what they did to me and your former boyfriend. So I pissed in a bottle and gave it to Sirius and Peter so they could sneak it into one of their dinner parties and mix it with their drinks.”

“So they drank your piss?” she said.

“Yeah, they all drank it,” clarified Sirius.

Lily nodded slowly, biting down slightly on her bottom lip. Then, without warning, she burst out in fits of laughter. James turned to Sirius for guidance, thoroughly confused by this reaction. However, Sirius simply shrugged, proving to be useless in helping James understand this situation.

“What did they do?” choked Lily through her laughter, wiping a tear from her eye.

“Spat it out mostly,” answered Sirius. “Except for Mulciber who looked directly at me and Peter and downed the whole thing. No idea why.”

“It’s a pride thing,” said James.

Lily’s laughing subsided somewhat and she shot Sirius a questioning look over James’ shoulder. Sirius raised his hands to indicate that he didn’t understand what James meant by ‘pride thing’ either.

“So you wanted to see what we were stapling?” asked James, relieved that Lily appeared to be in no way angry.

Lily walked to stand directly beside James so she could see the poster properly.

“Oh, that’s nice,” she said. “Who drew it?”

“Remus.”

“He’s almost very good,” she observed. “Hey, do you think I could help you lot out with this disco planning stuff?”

“You don’t have to,” said James.

“It looks like fun though.”

James tried to remain as casual as possible when he replied, “Yeah, you should come sit with us tomorrow at lunch so we can talk about it.”

Sirius let out a loud cough which sounded as though it was covering a laugh.

“That sounds good,” said Lily, either ignoring Sirius’ cough-laugh or mistaking it for genuine coughing. “I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

* * *

 

Unsurprisingly, the Richies themselves did not find James’ master plan nearly as amusing as Lily had. The majority of them had gathered at Mulciber’s house that afternoon to discuss plans for revenge. They were seated around the dining room table, perhaps with the thought that this would make their planning feel more professional.

“So it was Pettigrew, right? He gave us the drinks,” said Rosier.

“Obviously,” stated Mulciber in a bored voice. “Pettigrew’s been hanging around Potter for weeks. Sirius’ll have been in on it as well.”

“We don’t know that,” snapped Regulus.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” said Severus, his voice cold and sharp. “We know exactly who it was. It was Pettigrew and Black on Potter’s orders.”

“Does this mean we’re going to go and kick them around,” asked Ascella, yawning as she fiddled with her hair.

“I wouldn’t have a problem with that,” said Mulciber.

“No. We have to be clever about this,” voiced Severus.

“What’s your idea then, Snape?”

 “I’m glad you asked,” he said, smirking and pulling out a folded piece of paper from his pocket.

Unfolding it, he revealed to the group an adequate drawing of a young boy in flares and the words ‘Disco: Help Save The Prewett Farm’.

* * *

 

As they waited for Lily to turn up to chess club, James was trying his hardest to wipe the sweat from his hands without his fellow chess club members noticing.

“Clammy hands?” asked Sirius the second James rubbed his left palm on his own thigh.

“How could you tell?” said James.

“Nervous to see Lily?” teased Remus who was currently losing a game of chess against Peter.

“Why would I be nervous?”

“Because you love her,” said Peter. “Checkmate.”

Hiding his bitterness over losing to Peter (by far the worst chess player in the group), Remus turned to James and queried, “Are you going to propose?”

“Very funny,” said James sourly.

“Have you thought about what you’ll name your kids yet?” asked Peter.

“Pete, that is a ridiculous question,” said Sirius. “Of course he’s named their kids. A better question would be ‘what names have you picked out for your future children’?”

Remus and Peter both chuckled.

“Ooh, what’s funny!” cried Dorcas, bursting into the room. Lily and Mary followed her.

“I brought the girls. Is that okay?” said Lily, not waiting for a reply before seating herself between Sirius and Remus.

The table only had six chairs around it, so Dorcas perched herself on a neighboring table. Just close enough to hear.

“So what do we need to plan?” asked Lily in a matter-of-fact tone.

“Who made you the boss, Evans?” said Sirius.

Lily glanced up at him, well aware that he was attempting an intimidating gaze. She met his gaze and remained staring, unblinking, at him, refusing to back down.

“We still need to decide the music,” said Peter quickly, attempting to quell any possible arguments.

“Oh!” cried Mary, suddenly perking up. “Can I be in charge of the music? I have a load of disco records.”

Lily and Sirius groaned in unison.

“Can’t we have punk disco?” asked Lily hopefully.

Sirius frowned at Lily for a moment, before turning to James and declaring, “I’ve changed my mind; I like her.”

“Why are you telling me?” said James defensively.

“Wait, what do you mean you’ve changed your mind?” asked Lily in a hurt voice. “You didn’t like me before?”

“Don’t worry about it, Evans. It’s a distant memory of times gone by.”

“You mean two minutes ago?”

“Exactly.”

Remus cleared his throat. All eyes turned to him.

“I hate to break up this bonding session,” he said. “But we really do need to agree on the music. Hands up for a punk disco.” Only Lily and Sirius raised their hands. “Hands up for letting Mary play her disco records.” Mary’s hand shot straight up. Peter, Remus, James, and Dorcas all raised their hands as well. “That’s settled then. No punk disco. What next?”

“Food?” suggested Dorcas. “Are we providing food?”

The discussion and debate flowed in much the same way for the rest of lunch. By the hour, they had settled on arrangements for food, drinks, and ticket sales and distribution. The only thing left to organize was the matter of chaperones.

“I’ll ask my dad,” said Mary.

“I can ask my mum,” offered Lily.

“I’ll ask someone as well,” said Dorcas, thinking it would be the perfect excuse to visit Caradoc again.

“Okay, well we’ll figure out this chaperone stuff later,” said James.

The bell rang, indicating the end of lunch. They all picked up their bags and each made their way to their next lesson or the common room.

“James,” whispered Dorcas, grabbing his wrist to hold him back. Once the others had left, she answered his questioning look. “I need to ask you for some boy advice.”

“Alright,” he said, pulling out a chair to sit on, assuming this would be a long conversation.

“If a girl knocked on your door once to ask you for an interview to put in her newsletter, then knocked on your door just a few days later to ask if you would chaperone a disco, would you think she was into you?”

“I would probably assume that she genuinely wanted to interview me and to chaperone a disco.”

“Okay,” she said. “You can go now.”

“That’s it?” asked James incredulously.

Dorcas nodded. James swallowed and considered something for a moment.

“Can I ask you something?” he said.

“Of course.”

“Do you think I might have a chance with Lily?”

Dorcas clapped her hands together with delight.

“I knew you still liked her!” she cried. “This is so exciting.”

“But do you think she could like me back?”

“Oh, I have no idea,” replied Dorcas. “Probably not. I mean, you’ve been a real prat.”

James racked his brain for a reasonable counter argument, but could not find one. After all, she wasn’t exactly wrong.


	11. The Chaperone

**Chapter Eleven: The Chaperone**

James didn’t care at all what Lily thought of him (was a lie he told himself daily).

In fact, the reason James was early to the disco planning meeting that day wasn’t because he didn’t want to hold everyone up and consequently upset Lily. It was actually so he could search Professor Vector’s desk for chewing gum. This was the excuse he used when Remus turned up a few minutes after James and questioned his earliness anyway.

“Did you find any gum?” asked Remus.

“I did not,” said James. “But at least now I know where not to go if I want gum in the future.”

When the meeting started, James seated himself as far from Lily as possible.

This obviously had nothing to do with the fact that he often sweated nervously during prolonged exposure to Lily and everything to do with the fact that he wanted to sit in between Mary and Sirius as they argued about the music choice for the hundredth time, which was not tiresome in the slightest.

“Look,” said James finally, after Mary started passive-aggressively humming Fernando. “Why doesn’t Sirius go over to Mary’s tonight to help pick the music? That way he can make sure nothing too awful gets played.”

“That’s fine,” said Mary.

“I disagree that disco can be anything but awful, but I’ll go anyway,” conceded Sirius.

“Great!” cried Remus. “Now can we move on?”

“Well, none of our parents want to chaperone,” said Lily. “So there’s that.”

“I’m going to go ask someone after school,” offered Dorcas, blushing a little.

“And Pete and I will come to that,” said James. Peter nodded in agreement.

“What? Why?” said Dorcas.

“Because James gets bored when Sirius is busy,” explained Remus. “And he can’t bother me because I have a doctor’s appointment.”

“Why can’t you annoy Lily instead of me?” whined Dorcas. “You’re great at annoying Lily.”

“I have a family thing,” said Lily quickly.

“You can’t argue with him,” Peter told Dorcas, shrugging.

“Hang on a minute,” cried James. “I am not great at annoying Lily. I bet none of you can name a single time I ever slightly irritated her.”

He could feel the looks of disbelief and was well aware that this diversion of the conversation might be winding Lily up, but he could not stop himself. In an attempt to look confident, James sat up a little straighter and ruffled his hair. As he did this, he accidentally knocked his glasses a little too far down his nose. The conclusion he reached was that it was best to make this seem as purposeful as possible, so he accepted that his vision would be blurry for the remainder of the conversation.

“James, if the degree to which you have annoyed me was made into a physical object, it would tower over Mount Everest,” said Lily sweetly with a sarcastic smile.

James seized this moment to dramatically push his glasses back up his nose and said, “Well, that was incredibly eloquent and hurtful, but I still don’t think I’m annoying.”

“That’s because you don’t have to talk to yourself,” replied Lily.

“Ouch!” cried James, dramatically clutching his chest.

She tried, in vain, to swallow a smile.

Out of the corner of his eye, James saw the others exchange knowing looks. Lily seemed oblivious as she began to pack the remains of her lunch away.

* * *

 

Mary regretted allowing Sirius Black into her bedroom almost immediately.

It wasn’t just that her father kept making jokes about how Mary was finally showing an interest in boys, or that Sirius had taken off his shoes and his feet smelled worse than either of her brother’s.

The main problem was that he had settled himself in front of her record collection and, while picking out what he deemed the least offensive, was throwing unwanted vinyls across the floor.

“Can you try not to make a mess please?” said Mary stiffly.

“Your record collection is a mess anyway. It doesn’t matter how neatly you’ve organised it.”

With a roll of her eyes, Mary threw herself glumly onto her bed.

“No need to look like that,” said Sirius. “Most girls would be jumping for joy if I was in their bedroom.”

“I do not believe that for a second.”

Mary wasn’t being completely honest. She was well aware how most girls looked at Sirius. It’s just that she didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of letting him know. Not to mention that he might think she was one of the girls who stared at him with longing eyes.

Mary herself had never made longing eyes at anyone. Still, she thought that if she went through some drastic change and found herself in love with somebody, it would not be with a person who threw her records around.

Just then Sirius let out a cry of disgust.

“What is it now?” cried Mary.

“Why do you have this?”

He held up her copy of Ding-A-Dong by Teach In.

“Okay, I know you hate ABBA, but if you’re going to start being rude about all the Eurovision song contest winners then you can leave my bedroom right now,” she said.

“Unbelievable,” he muttered under his breath as he tosses the record aside. Mary flinched. Seconds later he cried out again, “Olivia Newton John! Why?”

* * *

 

Having not expected to see the young blonde girl who asked him a lot of questions ever again, Caradoc was a little surprised to find her on his doorstep once more. This time accompanied by two boys.

“Can I help you?” he asked the three teenagers.

“Yes,” said James. “How would you feel about chaperoning a disco?”

Caradoc looked perplexed for a moment before sighing, “Why don’t you come inside.”

“Don’t mind if we do,” said Dorcas.

Once welcomed into his living room, it became obvious that Caradoc already had a guest. Sat in an armchair was a stocky, middle-aged man with a glass eye so shockingly blue that Dorcas visibly started at the sight of it.

“Calm down, girl,” growled the man, leaning back. “It’s any eye not a snake. It won’t bite you.”

“Sorry,” she said, not meeting his eye out of embarrassment.

They seated themselves on the various arm chairs and sofas around the room. Peter perched awkwardly on his chair, careful not to look too at home, Dorcas crossed her legs, causing her skirt to hitch up to her knees, and James fell back onto the softest sofa he could find, making himself as comfortable as possible.

“What’s all this disco business then?” asked Caradoc, returning with a biscuit tin and handing it around.

“Well,” said James, through a mouthful of custard cream. “We’re having a disco to raise money for the Prewett farm.”

“What’s wrong with the Prewett farm?” the middle-aged man with the glass eye demanded to know.

“It doesn’t have any money,” replied James.

Caradoc shot the middle-aged man a look.

“I’m very sorry about him,” he said. “This is Alastor Moody.”

“Colleague?” asked Dorcas.

“Godfather,” said Alastor Moody, answering on Caradoc’s behalf. “We should really be colleagues, but the young Mr Dearborn here thinks he’s got better things to do than protect his country.”

James sat bolt upright and leaned forwards.

“Where do you work?” he asked with great interest.

Alastor eyed him for a moment before saying, “Never mind where I work. Tell me more about what’s going on with the Prewetts and their farm.”

Rolling his eyes, Caradoc excused himself to go and make tea.

“They’re going to lose it,” explained Dorcas, eyes following Caradoc as he left, her voice a little louder than usual as though she wanted him to hear her. “They’re running a bit low on funds and they need enough money to get through until next summer.”

“And you think a disco will solve this?” said Alastor sceptically. “How much money can a disco make.”

Dorcas and James shared a look.

“Well, the disco isn’t the whole plan,” said Dorcas.

Peter looked at her curiously.

“We’re hoping that if this disco’s a success then we can bring the Youth Club back,” elaborated James. “If we have one every Friday night then that’s a nice source of income for the farm.”

“I didn’t know that was the plan,” said Peter.

“He only told me because he wanted me to check his working out,” said Dorcas, before adding loudly, “I’m very good at Maths.”

Peter pursed his lips and started forwards, lost to his own thoughts. Luckily, nobody was paying him much attention.

“Quiet down, girl,” snapped Alastor. “Caradoc can’t hear you from here, and even if he could, yelling at the poor boy won’t make him take a fancy to you.”

“What?” blurted Dorcas, turning a bright shade of red.

“You’re not exactly subtle,” explained Alastor. “You can boast about intelligence all you want, but if you don’t have any common sense, you won’t go far in life. Are you intelligent, boy?” he asked of James.

“Yes,” answered James confidently.

“Got any common sense?”

“Not much,” he admitted.

“Well, look into fixing that,” said Alastor. “Or it’ll come back to bite you in the arse. Still, I like this plan. It’s clever.”

“Thank you,” said James.

Just as Caradoc was returning with a tray of teacups and a teapot, Alastor said, “If you keep on like this you might end up being my colleague. You too,” he nodded at Dorcas. “If you’re really that good with numbers.”

Before either James or Dorcas could get excited or even ask what being Alastor’s colleague would entail, Caradoc slammed the tray down on a side table.

“Alastor!” he cried. “You’ve got to stop trying to recruit every person you meet.”

“What about you?” Alastor asked Peter, ignoring Caradoc’s protests. “Any common sense?”

Peter shook his head, still staring directly ahead, his eyes glazed over.

“Yeah you do,” said James.  “You’ve got more common sense than I do.”

Peter’s forced smile did not fool James into thinking he had believed him.

“I mean it,” he continued. “You and Remus keep me and Sirius grounded. We’d get far too carried away with our genius otherwise.”

 “Enough of this rubbish,” barked Alastor. Peter breathed a sigh of relief that the attention was being taken off of him. “If you want to lift each other’s spirits then go to one of those Hippie fairs. Now, what time would you like us at this bloody disco?”

“Alastor, I’m not going to this disco,” said Caradoc.

“Yes you are. It’s time you started caring about something.”

“I don’t want to care about something.”

“Tough.”

* * *

 

Lily found Dorcas and Mary in the common room at lunch. Exhausted from a tedious History lesson, she threw her bag down and fell into the chair opposite the sofa the two girls were sitting in.

“I am shattered,” said Lily. “How are you two?”

“I am never allowing Sirius Black anywhere near my house ever again,” fumed Mary.

“That bad, huh? What about you, Cas? How was spending the afternoon with James?” asked Lily of Dorcas, grimacing as she did so. “Bet that was taxing.”

Dorcas nudged Mary and the two of them shared a look before Dorcas replied, “No, it was fine.”

“Speaking of James, I saw him this morning and he said the funniest thing.”

Dorcas and Mary shared another look.

“What?” Lily demanded of them. “What is it?”

“Nothing,” said Dorcas, her voice shaking as she tried to hide laughter.

Mary sniggered.

“What?” cried Lily.

“It’s really nothing. I’m sure James said something very funny,” said Dorcas.

“What exactly are you implying?” inquired Lily.

“That you have a bit of a thing for James Potter,” said Dorcas casually.

“Seriously?” exclaimed Lily. “Just because you don’t want him anymore doesn’t mean I have to have him!”

“Oh, Lily, don’t turn this on Dorcas. It’s obvious to all of us that you fancy the pants off of him,” said Mary.

“I do not!”

“Are you gonna cozy up to him at the disco?” teased Dorcas, ignoring Lily’s protests.

Mary opened her mouth to speak but then let out a sudden burst of laughter at the joke inside her head.

“What is it?” said Lily, in a tired voice.

“Are you going to be his dancing queen?” asked Mary, laughing once more.

“How do you find that funny?” cried Dorcas. “You never laugh at any of my jokes and they’re actually good.”

“I laugh at you. Isn’t that enough?” said Mary. “Anyway, Lily, what was this hilarious thing James said?”

“I’m not gonna tell you. You’ll only use it against me,” said Lily, folding her arms.

“We’re really sorry, Lily,” pleaded Dorcas. “Tell us the whole story. Why were you talking to him anyway?”

“He was asking if I’d help him sell tickets on Friday,” she explained.

At that, both Dorcas and Mary burst out laughing.

“What is so funny about that?”

“Lily, it’s sitting at a table, taking money off of people and giving them tickets in exchange,” said Mary. “How much help can he need?”

“Well, he probably wants someone to keep him company,” reasoned Lily. This only encouraged more laughter. “Oh, shut up. Let’s talk about something other than James Potter, alright?”

“Alright,” agreed Dorcas.

“But you’re the one who brought him up,” said Mary.

* * *

 

Mulciber was growing uncomfortable with the plan. Firstly, it had not been his plan, and Mulciber had faith in his plans above all others. Secondly, it was Severus Snape’s plan, and he distrusted plans made by people raised in working class families above all others.

He was half hoping the whole thing would fall through and they would use his idea of throwing eggs at anyone entering the disco. So when Evan Rosier approached him outside Economics, and Mulciber asked, “So did you manage to steal a ticket?” he almost wanted the answer to be no.

“Well, here’s the thing,” said Rosier, looking incredibly pleased with himself. “I didn’t have to.”

“What d’you mean?”

Rosier looked around and, upon noticing Mary Macdonald sitting a few seats away from them, decided it was better to keep quiet for now.

“Let’s just say someone on the inside wants to be on our side,” he whispered.

* * *

 

Ever since Lily’s relationship with Kenneth had ended, Petunia had taken to talking about Vernon more and more, throwing pointed looks at Lily every time she did so.

“I think Vernon will propose any day now,” said Petunia, the minute their mother had left the two girls alone in the kitchen to wash up after dinner.

“I thought you were waiting to get married,” said Lily, stacking plates with such aggression that she chipped one. “Shit,” she muttered.

Petunia ignored this and continued, “He’s taking me out to dinner after Christmas and he told me to wear something fancy.”

“Why do you have to wear something fancy to decide you want to get married?”

“Because it’s a special occasion!”

“If you love someone enough to want to marry them you shouldn’t have to dress up to impress them,” said Lily.

Petunia sniffed, “Just because there’s no chance of you getting married anytime soon. How is Kenneth, by the way?”

“I wouldn’t know. We haven’t really kept in touch.”

“It’s such a shame you let him go.”

“Didn’t you think he was boring?”

“But he put up with you, which is more than most men would be willing to do.”

“I don’t know, Tuney,” said Lily. “You managed to find someone.”

Jill Evans entered the kitchen just as Petunia whipped a tea towel at her younger sister.

“Petunia!” she scolded her eldest.

“She started it,” cried Petunia.

“I really don’t care,” said Jill. “Lily, there’s a boy at the door for you.”

“That’ll probably be one of many boys lining up to put up with me,” said Lily, flashing Petunia a smug smile.

Beneath the smile, Lily wondered what boy would be coming to visit her. The only likely candidate she could think of was James Potter. She mentally prepared her response to seeing him in her doorway. She’d say, “Look what the cat dragged in.” No, that was stupid. She’d say, “Yes, can I help you?” No, that was stupid as well. She’d improvise.

When she reached the door, so convinced had she been that she was about to converse with James Potter, Lily was taken aback to see that it was not James who had come to visit. It was Remus Lupin.

“Hello,” she greeted, trying to hide her confusion. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” replied Remus. “I just wanted to talk to you about something.”

After slipping on a pair of boots, Lily followed Remus across the road and perched herself beside him on the wall of Mr. Slughorn’s front garden.

“Okay, what’s this about?”

“I’m sorry, Lily,” said Remus. “I know it’s not my place to say anything, but I saw you at the hospital the over day.”

“Oh,” she said, a little winded.

“I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

“I’m fine. It’s not me that’s ill. It’s my dad. He’s erm… had a bit of trouble with strokes.”

“Oh,” he said.

“Yeah.”

“Do Dorcas and Mary know?” Lily nodded. “That’s good. I mean, you should have people to talk to about this stuff.”

Lily nodded once more, her eyes welling up a little.

“I’m really sorry,” he said once more.

“It’s fine,” said Lily. “Honestly. I don’t mind you knowing. Just don’t spread it round, yeah?”

“Of course not.”

Lily nodded a third time, blinking back tears, and running her hands through her hair.

“Would you like a hug?” he asked.

With her fourth and final nod of the conversation, Remus pulled Lily to his chest in an awkward, much-appreciated, one-armed hug.

* * *

 

That Friday lunch-time, Lily and James set up a table in the main hall, sat themselves on two plastic chairs, and waited for people to come and purchase tickets for the Christmas disco. Fifteen minutes had passed and the only two customers they had received were Benjy and Frank.

“Where is everyone?” cried James. “This is going to be a waste of money if nobody even comes.”

“Yeah,” said Lily, unable to think of anything else to say.

The lack of customers had put James in a rather irritable mood and she didn’t want to provoke another tedious rant. In any case, James seemed able to entertain himself just fine so it didn’t matter if Lily said much to him or not.

He began humming and tapping on the table.

“What’s that? Stairway to Heaven?” asked Lily.

James gave her a pitying look.

“Really, Evans? Stairway to Heaven?” he said, disbelief evident in every word he spoke. “It’s Babe I’m Gonna Leave You. Which is better by far.”

“I thought you were a disco fan,” said Lily.

“I like all music.”

“Even shit music?”

“What’s shit music?”

She thought for a moment before suggesting, “Buddy Holly.”

“Take that back,” he snapped, his voice mock-threatening.

“But he’s shit and old and all his songs sound the same,” she cried.

“That man was a genius.”

Lily rolled her eyes.

“Alright, Evans,” said James, waggling a finger at her. “What music do you like?”

“Music that’s current and good.”

“Like?”

“The Ramones.”

“Bands like the Ramones wouldn’t exist without the rock and roll movement,” he said.

“Well you wouldn’t exist without your parents having sex. Would you want to listen to that?”

Lily then started laughing, obviously pleased with her joke. James conceded a chuckle.

“You’re a bit mad, aren’t you?” he teased.

She laughed once more, but uncomfortably. Did he really think she was mad? Suddenly she was consumed with the thought that even if James had properly fancied her at one point, he had almost definitely stopped after spending large amounts of time with her during this disco planning business. It might have been helpful for Lily to question why exactly it would bother her if James stopped being interested in her (if he ever had been), but she was preoccupied with regretting mentioning James’ parents sex life. Maybe she shouldn’t have mentioned his parents at all. Come to think of it, Lily had no idea what James’ relationship with his parents was. She’d never thought to ask. In fact, she’d never asked him a single thing about his life.

“You okay?” asked James, noticing that Lily had seemed to disappear inside herself for the past minute.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” said Lily, blinking rapidly and shaking her head a little.

He gave a small smile and raise of his eyebrows, indicating he did not quite believe her.

“Honestly I’m fine,” she repeated. “But on an unrelated note, where are you from?”

James looked at her with a mixture curiosity and wonder, as though she was a child who had just revealed that she knew where babies came from and then proceeded to give a very detailed description.

“I’m from Hove,” he said finally. “Why do you ask?”

“I just realised I don’t know much about you,” she admitted. “Where’s Hove?”

“It’s basically Brighton.”

“So it’s by the sea?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m so jealous. I love the seaside.”

“It’s probably more exciting when you’re not from there,” said James. “But I do miss it sometimes.”

“What about your parents? Do you miss them?”

James laughed, “Well, that got deep fast.”

“Sorry,” she said quickly.

“No, it’s fine. I don’t mind,” he reassured her. “The answer is sometimes, by the way. I sometimes miss my parents.”

“More or less than the seaside?”

“More,” he admitted, the corners of his mouth twitching. “Anything else you want to know?”

“What about your friends?” she asked.

“What about them?”

“Anything. What were they like? Do you miss them?”

“They were idiots,” said James. “But I did miss them a lot at first. Not so much anymore. I suppose I realised that they weren’t as much friends as followers. Sirius, Remus and Peter are like proper friends. They don’t do everything I tell them to and they don’t think I’m the second coming of Jesus just because I’m amazing at football.”

“And modest.”

“That too.”

Their light laughter faded into silence once more, until James yelled, “Oh, come on! Where are the bloody customers!”

The sound of his voice echoed around the entire hall.

* * *

 

James’ mood had not brightened by dinner. He complained loudly as Angie placed plates of sausage and mash in front of him and Sirius.

“We sold about five tickets. It was a complete disaster,” said James, blowing angrily on his mashed potatoes.

“Better luck next time, dear,” said Angie sympathetically.

“Besides, I reckon we’ll sell loads at the door,” added Sirius. “Growing up with no friends has made me great at eavesdropping and I’ve heard a lot of people talking about this disco. Did you know that Kathy Jones is going to wear her mum’s heels?”

“I did not,” said James.

“Well, now you do.”

“But if everyone wants to come then why haven’t they bought tickets yet?”

“Maybe they forgot to bring money to school,” said Sirius, shrugging. “Just wait and see what happens next Friday. If nobody turns up then we can get angry and smash some shit up.”

“Like what?”

“Like my parents’ house?”

“What about your motorbike?” said James.

“Shit, I keep forgetting about that. Okay, after Christmas, when I get my motorbike, then I can start fucking with my parents again.”

“Sirius, it’s not right to manipulate your parents,” scolded Angie, tutting as she dug into her own plate of food.

“I would agree if my parents weren’t Satan incarnate.”

“Both of them?” questioned James.

“Yeah, sure. Why the hell not.” said Sirius, taking a large bite out of a sausage.

* * *

 

Any attention that Mr. Binns might have received from his students at the beginning of the lesson had diminished within five minutes of him talking.  It was terribly hard to concentrate on Oliver Cromwell when the teacher was both terribly boring and had a seemingly strong objection to open windows no matter the weather. Having refused to crack open a single window during summer, there was stale air within the classroom that lasted throughout winter, numbing the minds of the students. Some were even driven to preoccupy themselves with attempts at catching the floating dust, visible in the odd flash of sunlight.

James Potter brought his head down onto the desk with a dramatic thud. Lily giggled from beside him.

“Are you alright?” she asked.

“Peachy, Evans,” he replied, his forehead still pressed against the desk. “I simply appear to have died of boredom.”

“Is that possible?”

“Apparently so.”

“Well that’s not good,” she said.

“No,” he agreed, sitting upright once more. “It’s not good at all. Death by boredom isn’t exactly the most glamorous way to bow out of this world and what in God’s name are you doing?”

She shushed him and went back to her previous activity of pressing two fingers against various points on her wrist.

“Evans?”

“Yeah?”

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Oh, I’m looking for my pulse,” she said.

“Why?”

Then she turned to look at him with a curious expression. “To check that I haven’t died of boredom,” she spoke as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“Ah, of course.”

After watching Lily’s search continue for a few moments, James decided to follow suit. He found his own pulse within four seconds.

“Shit,” he muttered. “Looks like I’m still alive.”

She shot him a glare and then proceeded to groan.

“What’s wrong?” he asked her.

“I can’t find mine!” she cried. “Oh, my God! What if I died and didn’t even realise?”

“I hope you’re not planning on becoming a doctor,” said James.

“Help me find it?” she asked, holding out her wrist.

He looked a little dazed by this request, but did not show any signs of protest. As his fingertips pressed against her skin, her breath hitched a little. Thankfully, however, James did not notice this as he was too busy frowning down at her wrist.

“I can’t find it either,” he said.

“Maybe I have died.”

“That’d be a terrible shame.”

“Why?” she teased. “Would you miss me?”

“Eh, I’d get over it.”

He gave a small shrug and tried applying pressure to yet another spot. Her breathing was getting increasingly shallow as his skin continued to press upon hers.

“It’s no use,” he announced after some time, releasing her.

“You’re giving up on my pulse? That’s charming, isn’t it? Leaving me to die of boredom in History.”

“Why don’t you try your neck?”

 “Does that work?” she asked sceptically.

After he confirmed that you could in fact find your pulse there, Lily raised her finger to her neck and pressed them somewhere around the middle.

“Nothing’s happening,” she said. “Why are you laughing at me?”

“I’m not laughing,” he lied quickly.

“What is it?”

“You’re doing it wrong.”

“Well how was I supposed to know that? Ah, I give up.”

“Do you want me to help?”

“Okay,” said Lily, attempting to hide a smile.

Goosebumps prickled upon her pale skin as he pushed her long ginger hair out of the way. Very gently, he pressed two fingers down upon a spot just below her jaw.

“Have you found it?” she asked, suddenly feeling as though she needed to avoid making eye contact.

“Not yet,” he said, moving a little lower.

Lily hated how terribly aware of him she was. She could feel James’ warm breath against her neck, feel his nail nip at her skin, feel her heart start to pick up speed.

Dread flushed through her, knowing that if he did find her pulse, he would undoubtedly feel the rapid speed at which her heart was beating under his touch. That was an embarrassment she didn’t think she could live down. She was certain he wouldn’t let her live it down.

“Ah,” cried James, grinning. “Found it.”

“Oh, that’s good,” she said quickly. “We should probably get back to our work.”

“Hold on. Don’t you wanna feel it?”

Lily watched him as he reached for her hand with his free one. James placed her forefinger against the spot his own had just vacated.

“There you go,” he said.

In somewhere very far away she could feel the vague throbbing of her own pulse. That far away feeling was overwhelmed, however, by the feeling of James Potter’s hand still holding her finger in place, his grin of pride for finding it, and his eyes staring right back into hers as he said, “So you’re not dead after all.”

“No,” she breathed. “I suppose not.”

 


	12. Dancing With Dracula

**Chapter Twelve: Dancing With Dracula**

Sirius and James were three minutes late already. They were among those who were expected to show up early and help set up the village hall for the disco, except James was causing a rather large delay.

“It’s fine,” groaned Sirius, watching James ruffle his hair in front of the mirror, as he had been for the past ten minutes. “Mate, it looks the same as when you started. Your hair always looks exactly the same.”

With a sigh, James turned away from the mirror.

“I’m just trying to look even better than I usually do,” he said.

“Why’s that?” asked Sirius, a tone of amusement present in his voice. “Because of a certain fellow disco-planner with red hair? Lily’s seen you before James. I don’t think she gonna be impressed by even messier hair.”

“You’re a cock and I don’t care what Lily thinks. Let’s go.”

* * *

 

“I hope people actually turn up,” Mary muttered to Remus, who was helping her empty packets of salt and vinegar crisps into a large glass bowl.

“I hope Sirius falls off of the ladder,” said Remus casually.

James and Peter were standing across the hall watching Sirius climb a large step ladder with a disco ball under one arm and a screw driver between his teeth. Sirius had protested that he climb the ladder without their assistance in either holding the ladder steady or passing the objects up to him once he’d reached the top. After this, everyone was sort of hoping Sirius would fall off the ladder.

Lily and Dorcas had stopped lining the walls in plastic chairs to watch.

There was a collective intake of breath as Sirius reached the top and the ladder gave a threatening wobble.

Spitting the screwdriver into his other hand, Sirius cried, “Can everyone calm down. I’ve got this.”

He raised the disco ball up to the ceiling with little difficulty, until he realised something and let out a deep groan.

“What’s the problem?” asked Peter.

“I forgot the screws,” admitted Sirius.

“Do you want us to pass them to you?”

“Do you want me to drop a disco ball on your head?”

Peter just laughed.

“You’ve lost your intimidating touch,” teased James, holding the screws up for Sirius.

With a great deal of frowning, Sirius snatched the screws from James and muttered a quick, “Thanks.”

“Let’s leave him to it,” said James.

“I’m gonna hold the ladder,” announced Peter as the ladder wobbled once more.

“Fine. But if he kills you, you’ve only got yourself to blame.”

Leaving the two boys, James took to the opposite end of the hall and started trying to hook up the record player to the speakers. As he did so, Lily appeared at his shoulder.

“Hey,” she said. “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything,” replied James.

“Why won’t Sirius accept any help?”

“Oh, that’s just another pride thing.”

“What does that even mean? You can’t just do ridiculous things and say that it’s a pride thing. If Sirius had a real sense of pride he’d accept some help and stop looking like an idiot.”

“You are correct as always, Evans,” said James, taking a single out of its sleeve and placing it on the record player. “But I bet you anything you have a weird pride thing too. We all do. Some of us drink piss, some refuse assistance when installing disco balls.”

“I definitely don’t have a weird pride thing.”

“You probably do. You just think it’s normal.”

Lily didn’t have much to say in response to this and felt a strange sense of fear that the conversation had reached its natural end. Just then, ‘That’s The Way I Like It’ by KC and the Sunshine Band started blaring from the speakers.

“Got it working, then?” asked Lily.

She immediately realised it had been a stupid question. If he hadn’t got it working she would still remain woefully misinformed over what way KC and the Sunshine Band like it.

When he confirmed that he had gotten it working, which she already knew, Lily excused herself to go and help Mary and Remus pin Christmas decorations to the notice board. After all, if she was going to wallow in her own idiocy, what better time to do it than while rummaging through a box of tinsel.

James watched her leave with a small smile on his face.

“Get that shit off,” cried Sirius, jumping down from the ladder, disco ball in place. “If I have to listen to this all night can we at least have silence for now?”

* * *

 

The fear that nobody would show up to their Christmas Disco was quelled at about half past eight that evening, when it seemed that almost the entire teenage population of Sowsworth had squeezed themselves into the village hall and were getting their groove on to ‘Heaven Must Be Missing An Angel’.

Mary was boogieing by the record playing where she was in her element, playing song after song that Sirius hated. The chaperones: Marlene Mckinnon, Alastor Moody, and Alice Podmore, were all hovering by the food table, doing their best not to get injured by a flailing elbow from an overenthusiastic dancer. Lily had just finished thanking the three of them, once more, for volunteering their time, when she ran into James.

“Hi,” he said. “I was just looking for you.”

“Me? Why?”

“I wanted to know if you’d dance with me.”

He laughed nervously as he asked. Lily opened her mouth to reply, but found herself pulled back by a doubt.

“Can I get back to you later?” she said.

“About whether or not you’ll dance with me?”

“I realise that sounds crazy, but yes.”

“Is this a pride thing?” asked James, teasing.

“I’m not sure yet. I’ll have to get back to you on that too. I’m really sorry about this.”

Then she disappeared to go and find Dorcas and Mary.

* * *

 

Dorcas was moping in the corner, curled up in a plastic chair, wondering if it wasn’t too late for Caradoc to arrive and chaperone.

That was when Maureen Baddock, a girl with a wild mass of dark hair and a lot of badly-applied blue eyeshadow took the seat next to her. Dorcas was unsure if it was acceptable to cry in front her given that they had never had a relationship beyond a smile and a nod if they ran into each other at the corner shop.

“Hey, are you alright?” said Maureen.

This took Dorcas by surprise, but she was never one to turn down an opportunity to discuss her feelings.

“Well, if I’m honest, Maureen, I’m a little disappointed.”

“Is this about a boy?”

“A man,” corrected Dorcas.

Maureen rolled her eyes.

“Look around. Look at these boys. They are all idiots. I had to slap Stebbins around the face earlier.”

“Why?”

“He kept talking to my boobs.”

Maureen gestured to her enormous breasts.

“Maybe if I had your boobs then boys would like me.”

“No, they’d just like your boobs. Trust me, you’re fine without boys liking you,” said Maureen.

“But this village is so bloody boring,” whined Dorcas. “What am I supposed to do other than obsess over boys?”

Maureen leaned in very close to Dorcas.

“We could get high,” she suggested.

“Maureen!” cried Dorcas. Then, lowering her voice to a stern whisper she said, “Are you trying to give me drugs?”

Maureen laughed, “Don’t be stupid. I’m offering to sell you drugs.”

“I think that’s illegal.”

“Everybody does it.”

“I’ve never done it. Is everybody doing it behind my back?”

“Look, don’t worry about the drugs, Meadowes, just come and dance.”

Standing up, Maureen offered Dorcas a hand and led her onto the dance floor. Maureen’s friends were fun, thought Dorcas as she sang along to ‘Dancing Queen’, but the issue of Caradoc Dearborn still lingered in the back of her mind.

She decided to go and find Mary.

Lily spotted Dorcas through the crowd and tried to push her way through, but kept getting shoved backwards by a group of boys who were determined to have their arms around each other while dancing.

By the time they had passed, Dorcas had vanished from view.

* * *

 

“Aren’t you going to dance?” asked Mary of Remus.

The boy had taken to hovering by the record player instead of joining in with the thriving mass of teenagers.

“I’m not really a dancer,” he said.

“I thought I saw you dancing near Kathy Jones earlier.”

“Yeah, and now she’s dancing with Sirius,” sighed Remus. “It’s okay. I know there aren’t any girls here who’ll want to be seen dancing with me.”

“Oh, stop feeling sorry for yourself. I’ll dance with you.”

“Don’t you have to change the music?”

Mary gave Remus a withering look as ‘Fernando’ finished playing. Very smoothly, minimising the moment of silence between songs, Mary took the ABBA single off of the record player and replaced it with ‘Kung Fu Fighting’.

“Believe it or not,” said Mary. “I can dance while I wait for the next song to finish. Come on.”

Dorcas was none too pleased to find the record player abandoned when she reached it.

* * *

 

Remus had not been the only boy on the sidelines. Frank and Benjy were sat by the food table, hoarding a plate of sausage rolls and arguing over who should get up and dance first.

“Well, neither of us can dance with the person we want to dance with,” said Frank glumly. “So why can’t we just stay here all night.”

“Fuck off,” said Benjy. “You could definitely dance with the person you want to dance with.”

“She won’t say yes.”

“Why don’t you ask her? Just in case.”

“Why don’t you ask Kenneth if he’ll dance with you?”

“Because I don’t want to get beaten up,” said Benjy darkly. “Now go and ask Alice if she’ll dance with you. I promise your life isn’t in the balance.”

“Sorry,” muttered Frank.

“It’s fine.”

“I’m gonna go talk to her.”

“Thank God.”

Frank wiped the sausage roll crumbs off of his trousers and got up. Alice Podmore was not too far away, but he took his time to build up his courage.

“Hi,” he said.

He towered over her thanks to his recent growth spurt and her tiny frame, but it didn’t create any illusion he might be older than seventeen, two whole years younger than she was.

“Hi,” greeted Alice warmly. “You’re Frank from the corner shop.”

“Yeah, and you’re Alice from the pub.”

“That’s right.”

“And you always buy a dairy milk bar from our shop on your weekend lunch break.”

The sound of Kung Fu Fighting pounded in Frank’s ears as they slowly turned red.

“They’re cheaper in the post office though,” he said, unable to stop himself.

“Thanks for the tip.” She then added in a whisper, “But I prefer the customer service in your shop.”

Frank’s entire face was burning with blush as he tried to imagine an appropriate response to what he thought might be flirting.

“Do you wanna dance?” he blurted out.

Alice looked startled for a moment, but then, while fidgeting with her short hair, said, “I’m really sorry, I don’t think I can when I’m chaperoning. I’ve gotta watch out for trouble and stuff.”

“Right, that makes sense. Sorry,” said Frank. “I’ll leave you alone.”

“Wait. That doesn’t mean you have to leave me alone.”

“It doesn’t?”

Alice shook her head.

“I suppose it gets a bit boring just watching, doesn’t it?” he asked. “You could probably use someone to talk to.”

“I think that would be nice.”

* * *

 

Lily knew that Mary had hardly moved from the record player all night, but Dorcas was far more difficult to locate.

When she did spot Dorcas for the second time that night, she was standing dangerously close to James Potter, and Lily had no desire to tell him that she still had no answer for him after an hour.

Dorcas approached James, who all alone at the edge of the dance floor.

“Why are you just standing there?” she asked.

“I’m waiting for Lily to get back to me about a dance.”

 “How long have you been waiting?”

“About an hour,” he admitted.

“And you’re still waiting? I thought it was embarrassing and rude to go for a girl who’s rejected you,” she teased.

“I know,” said James. “But the thing is, I don’t think she minds.”

He was trying very hard to hold back a grin, but was not succeeding all too well.

“I think you might not be entirely wrong,” conceded Dorcas.

Seeing his grin spread without suppression, Dorcas smiled too. He was a bit of an idiot, she thought, which was good because so was Lily a lot of the time.

“But seriously where is that girl? I haven’t seen her all night.” she said.

* * *

 

Peter’s nerves had been on edge all night. This was worsened by the fact that at the exact moment he went to take a piss, Sirius burst into the boy’s toilets.

“Alright?” greeted Sirius, nodding at his friend as he took to the urinal beside him.

Glumly, Peter zipped up his trousers and went to wash his hands. He thanked God that Sirius did not comment on this.

“I reckon we’ve made a ton of money tonight,” said Sirius conversationally as he pissed.

Peter was so used to envying Sirius at this point that he barely noticed the brief flicker of jealousy that sparked in his chest at the fact that Sirius had no trouble pissing in front of friends.

Sirius continued, “Who’d have thought so many people would buy tickets on the door. I mean, I told James that they would, but I was mostly just trying to stop him freaking out.”

As Sirius washed his hands, Peter soothed a guilty conscience.

“You okay?” asked Sirius, flicking water at Peter.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” said Peter. “But can I ask you something?”

“I’m not gonna dance with you.”

Peter laughed nervously.

“No, I was wondering… Do you really think this farm stuff’s gonna work out?” said Peter.

“No idea,” replied Sirius with a shrug. “It’s unlikely, but that just means we’ve gotta fight a bit harder. Now can we stop with the serious conversations? I think I’m in there with Kathy Jones.”

* * *

 

As she put on yet another ABBA track, Mary apologised profusely to Remus.

“I’m really really sorry,” she said.

“It’s fine. I didn’t need the feeling in my toes.”

“In my defence, I never said I was good at dancing.”

Just then, Dorcas interrupted.

“Mary!” she cried. “Please put on a slow song. I want to dance with a boy.”

“Which boy?” asked Mary, folding her arms. “Which boy is it now?”

“Well, I don’t have one yet. I was hoping a slow song would force me into a slow dance with one.”

Remus raised an eyebrow.

“That’s ridiculous. Just go and dance,” said Mary.

Lily spotted her two friends arguing across the dance floor and, breathing a sigh of relief, pushed her way through the crowd so she could join them.

“Thank god!” cried Lily, grabbing Dorcas’ arm and flopping down into the nearest chair. “I’ve been looking for you two. I need your advice.”

* * *

 

Remus, bewildered by the sudden disappearance of the three girls, set about joining James, Sirius and Peter. Peter and James appeared to be teasing Sirius about the fact that Kathy Jones was now dancing with Benjy Fenwick.

“Oh, who needs her,” seethed Sirius. “Any girl here would be dying to dance with me.”

“Oh, yes,” said Remus. “They especially love how humble you can be.”

“Why are we mocking me? I haven’t seen James get close to Lily al night,” said Sirius.

“Oh, yeah,” cried Peter. “Why is that? Are you scared she’ll say no?”

“Scared she’ll run screaming?” asked Remus.

“Scared she’ll kick you and then run screaming?” suggested Sirius.

James, smiling and folding his arms, replied, “I’ll have you know she’s getting back to me about a dance.”

“Since when?”

“Since the beginning of the disco,” admitted James.

“James, mate, are you sure she didn’t just say that to get away from you?” asked Sirius. “When did you last see her?”

* * *

 

It was a good thing James couldn’t see Lily at that moment because she was sat on the floor of the girl’s toilets.

“Lily’s that disgusting. You don’t know what’s on the floor,” said Mary, wrinkling her nose.

Lily let out a distressed groan.

“What’s the problem?” asked Dorcas.                                

“Okay,” said Lily. “So James Potter asked me to dance, but I don’t know if I should.”

“Well, do you want to?” inquired Mary.

“That’s not the problem! Okay, do you remember when we were talking about how James is like Dracula? I said that Dracula is attractive in spite of his evilness and I meant it. I could never date Dracula no matter how attracted to him I was because he’s just a complete twat.”

“Well, I’m glad that you don’t want us to forget your position on dating Dracula,” said Mary.

“It’s a useful analogy!” cried Lily. “The problem is that James isn’t being a twat these days.”

“How is that a problem?” asked Dorcas.

“Because he’s still done all the bad stuff! How am I supposed to know that he isn’t really Dracula in disguise? I can’t dance with Dracula. It’s immoral.”

“Lily, you’re starting to sound like Dorcas,” said Mary harshly.

Lily’s eyes widened.

“Why do you look so offended?” cried Dorcas.

“Look,” said Lily. “I realise I sound crazy, but that is what this boy does to me. He makes me irrational and that’s why I shouldn’t dance with him.” Dorcas and Mary both looked back at her sceptically. “Or why I should dance with him? I don’t know! Tell me what to do.”

“What do you want to do?” asked Mary once more.

“I don’t want to say.”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake!” said Dorcas, pulling Lily to her feet. “Just go and dance with the boy. It doesn’t matter if he’s Dracula or whatever. You clearly want to dance with him so go.”

“Okay… If you say so.”

Then, with a flash of a grin, Lily skipped from the room.

Mary turned to Dorcas with a scolding scowl and muttered, “You’re rubbing off on her.”

“Yeah, well you’ve been in here too long. There’s been no music playing for about five minutes now.”

“Shit!” cried Mary, fleeing the toilets.

Dorcas folded her arms and smirked, feeling rather victorious.

* * *

 

The lack of music had briefly distracted Sirius, Remus, and Peter from bothering James about Lily, and he was grateful.

It had obviously occurred to him that she would not return to him that night, that she would possibly avoid him forever, or somehow get the attention of the room to announce that James Potter had asked her to dance and then everyone would point and laugh at him. A split second of irrational panic caused him to wonder if that’s why the music had stopped.

Thankfully, before his mind could wander any further from the realm of realistic possibilities, he received a tap on the shoulder from the girl in question.

“Hi,” said Lily warmly. “I have an answer. Sorry it took so long.”

“That’s fine.”

They stared at each other awkwardly from a few moments before he asked, “And that answer is?”

“Oh, right. Sorry,” she replied. “Yeah. I’d like to dance with you.”

“Cool,” said James, his panic departing and his grin returning.

Sirius turned his attention to the pair and snapped, “While this is all very romantic, I’d like to point out that there’s still no music.”

But, just as he said those words, the room was filled with music once more.

“What’s this song?” said Peter.

“December, 1963,” answered Remus, moving his shoulders in time with the music.

“And it’s not actually that bad,” admitted Sirius. “As far as dance music goes anyway.”

“Then let’s boogie,” said Remus. “Where have the idiots gone?”

The idiots he was referring to were already making their way to the center of the dance floor, hand in hand.

“We should have warned her about his sweaty palms,” said Sirius.

But, Lily was already learning about James’ sweaty palms. Not just because she was still holding his hand as they tried to sway in time with the music without laughing, but because he kept awkwardly apologising for them.

“It really doesn’t bother me,” said Lily. “This isn’t anyway near your worst quality. There’s so much more wrong with you.”

“How dare you,” cried James. “This is my one and only flaw.”

He lifted his arm, allowing her to twirl beneath it. She then placed her other hand in his and moved a little closer.

“It’s a bit different from the last time we were in here,” said Lily.

“We didn’t do this at the jumble sale?”

“Well, that, and people actually showed up to this. This could actually go a long way in helping the Prewett’s save their farm. It’s really impressive. You should be proud of yourself.”

“Is that why you’re dancing with me?” he asked. “Is this a thank you?”

“No,” she answered honestly.

* * *

 

The rest of the disco proceeded without a single lull in music or dancing or laughter. It wasn’t until the throng of teenagers had departed for their beds, and the disco-planning committee was left to clean up the disaster left in their wake, that was when the real trouble began.

Marlene Mckinnon had stayed behind to congratulate them.

“Seriously, though,” Marlene reiterated, watching as they stacked chairs. “This was great.”

Remus smiled kindly at her and said, “Thanks so much for your help, but you don’t have to stay. You can go home and sleep.”2

“I might have to take you up on that,” she said.

“Oh, wait!” cried James, running over to stop her before she left. “Do you have the money from entry?”

Marlene looked perplexed and shook her head.

“Everyone had tickets,” she told them. “We didn’t sell any on the door.”

Sirius dropped the chair he was holding.

“Is he alright?” asked Marlene.

“He’s fine,” said James quickly. “I think he might be drunk. Now, are you sure nobody paid on the door?”

“Sure,” said Marlene. “Anyway, I’m gonna go. You’re alright with locking up by yourselves?”

When James confirmed that she was fine to leave, she waved them goodbye and left them alone.

“For fuck’s sake!” cried James, kicking the nearest chair.

“Feel better?” asked Mary sarcastically.

James scowled back at her.

“Alright, what’s going on?” said Lily, stepping over empty sweet packets to join everyone in the middle of the room.

“Everyone, pull up a chair,” said Remus. “I think we’ve got stuff the talk about.”

Once everyone was seated in a circle, James began to explain, “We made no money tonight. Actually, we lost money if you count the fact that we had to buy the food and the drink.”

“How?” croaked Lily, turning to James, who was sat beside her. “How is that possible? Half the village turned up.”

“Apparently they all had tickets.”

“But we only sold a couple!”

“Exactly,” seethed James. “Someone must’ve copied the tickets and taken the money for themselves.”

“Who would do that?” said Dorcas. “One of us?”

“Obviously,” snarled Sirius.

Peter shifted in his seat.

“No, said James. “I don’t believe anyone here could have done it. The Richies must have stolen one somehow.”

“But it doesn’t matter,” piped Peter. “It doesn’t matter, does it? I mean, all that really matters was that it was a success. We can just charge people for coming to Youth Club. They’ll let us run it, won’t they? And then the Richies just think they’ve won. This way, everyone’s happy.”

“It doesn’t exactly work like that, Peter,” said Remus kindly. “It would be wonderful if it did, but we did lose a lot of money tonight. More money than we can hope to make up any time soon. Besides, this was an act of war if nothing else. The Richies will have to pay.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” said Sirius.

“Mare, couldn’t the church make up some of the money?” asked Dorcas hopefully. “Your dad said he wanted to help.”

“The church is a bit tight for money at the moment,” explained Mary. “We’re getting the roof retiled at the moment.”

Sirius exhaled deeply and announced he was going to the kitchen.

“There’s nothing we can do right now,” said Mary. “Let’s just clean up and sort this out in the morning.”

Everyone silently agreed and began working again. Everyone except Lily, who was still sat in her plastic chair, her knees brought up to her chin.

“You alright?” asked James, squatting so their eyeline was level.

“No,” said Lily, her voice shaking. “I’m really really angry.”

“Me too.”

She blinked away angry tears and looked at him clearly. Fury was blazing in his eyes.

“We need to do something,” she whispered.

“We will,” he promised.

Sirius coughed dramatically from the kitchen door, calling everyone to attention and causing Remus to give him a murderous glare.

“Sorry,” said Sirius quickly. “I didn’t mean to do the coughing thing. I was just trying to get everyone to look at me.”

Remus nodded and visibly relaxed.

“Anyway,” continued Sirius. “I have a surprise.”

He pulled a bottle of whiskey out from behind his back.

“Where did you get that?” cried Dorcas.

“I hid it under the sink for celebration if the disco went well and for comfort if not.”

“Genius,” breathed Lily, jumping up, crashing into James as she did so. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” he said, flashing a reassuring smile which knocked a little of the anger out of her.

Sirius strolled up to the two of them and held the bottle out.

“The first swig goes to our leader,” said Sirius.

“Thanks,” said Lily, snatching the bottle and taking an enormous swig.

“I think he meant me,” quipped James, taking the bottle from her and drinking from it.

Narrowing her eyes, Lily allowed herself to be coaxed into competition. She grabbed the bottle and took another swig. James then mirrored her. This went on until over half of the bottle was gone and Lily let out a large burp.

 “I bet Severus was involved in this. I want to fight him,” proclaimed Lily, punching the air.

James chuckled.

“That’ll be the whiskey talking,” said Sirius, retrieving the bottle from her clutches.

In turn, Mary took the bottle from Sirius and cried, “That’s enough now! We need to get this place sorted so we can go home and sleep. Any drinking or revenge plans can wait until tomorrow. Also, I would just like to point out that nobody’s complimented my DJ skills yet.”

“Sorry, Mary,” said James and Lily in whiny, sarcastic unison.

They then caught each other’s eye and burst out laughing.

“You two can go home. You’ll be useless,” said Mary. “Bloody lightweights.”

* * *

 

James thanked the heavens that the whiskey had lessened the harsh of the cold. He could see his breath in the air but could not feel the chill. Lily was wearing even less than him, having neglected to bring a jacket.

Though a little dizzy, James was determined to get Lily home safely before going home himself.

Unfortunately, Lily had got distracted on the way back.

“Look!” she cried, taking off. “It’s Church Street.”

“Where are you going?” he called after her.

“I want to see the new roof!”

“Why?”

But she did not reply. Instead, she ran down Church Street and James had no choice but to follow her. He caught up with her in the graveyard where she was leaning against the fence to regain her breath.

“Well, I can see why you wanted to see this,” said James, gesturing to the half-finished roof, a plastic sheet covering a large portion of it. “It’s beautiful.”

Lily shushed him.

“Look,” she whispered. “There’s a ladder.”

There was indeed a ladder leaning against the wall of the Church.

“Oh yeah,” said James. “The people doing up the roof must have left it.”

“I think we should climb it.”

It sounded like a bad idea, but for some reason, it appealed greatly to James.

“We should climb it!” he agreed.

Laughing, the two of them raced to the ladder. James was first but insisted that Lily go up before him so he could hold the ladder.

With some difficulty, the two managed to climb up the ladder and, subsequently, the roof, using the side of the bell tower for support. Eventually they managed to balance their bums on the ridge, still using the bell tower to ensure they didn’t slide down to their possible deaths.

James, having gone up second, was closer to the wall and so leaned against it, Lily’s hand clasped tightly in his so that she would not fall.

“I was hoping you could see the whole village from up here,” said Lily sadly. “But it’s mostly just the houses we could see from the ground.”

James tried to make a sympathetic noise but ended up humming ‘December, 1963’. Lily joined him.

 “Do you want to kiss me?” asked Lily, ending their song.

“Yes,” replied James very quickly. “Do you want to kiss me?”

“Yeah, but I’m worried about something.”

“Don’t worry. I don’t have a cold sore.”

“That wasn’t it.”

“What was it then?”

“I don’t want to fall off the roof,” said Lily so seriously, James thought she might start to cry. That was, until she started laughing.  “I just don’t want you to kiss me if it means I’ll fall off.”

“Jesus, Evans, how aggressive do you think I am when I kiss?” cried James.

“Well, I don’t know, do I? I’ve never kissed you before.”

“You know what, you don’t have to worry because, get this, I don’t want to fall off the roof either.”

“That’s insane. We have so much in common.”

“Don’t we just,” he said, leaning towards her.

Lily felt herself mirroring his action and leaning closer to him. Their lips were just an inch apart before, quite suddenly, James pulled away.

“What’s wrong?” asked Lily. “Do I have bad breath?”

“No,” replied James, his eyes widening in what looked like fear.

“Then what’s the matter?”

“I think we should get off the roof.”

“Why?”

He then looked at her and said, very somberly, “I really don’t want to push you off of the roof.”

“Well, don’t push me off the roof then,” reasoned Lily.

“Okay,” said James. “That’s good advice.”

“Thank you.”

“Shall we try again?”

“I think so,” she said.

He leaned in once more, so close she could feel him exhale from his nose. Until, abruptly, he pulled away again.

“It’s no use,” he said, shaking his head. “We’re going to have to get off the roof.”

James, being able to use the wall for support, was on his feet first. Then, using his free hand, he helped Lily up.

She slipped a little in her attempt to grab onto the wall herself, but did not fall.

“I hate going down ladders,” said Lily.

Yet, she did not hesitate when turning to face James and placing a blind foot on a rung, with one hand in James’ and the other holding the ladder steady. James waited until she was safe on the ground before following her.

When they were both on the ground, they shared a cheer.

“Hey, guess what?” said James, poking her nose.

“What?”

“We almost just died.”

“That was stupid, wasn’t it?”

“Really stupid,” he agreed.

Lily let out another laugh before wrapping her arms around James and kissing him.

 


	13. Feeding the Dog

**Chapter Thirteen: Feeding The Dog**

James kissed Lily back enthusiastically, wrapping his arms around her waist to bring her closer to him.

After a few minutes, Lily became extremely aware of the fact that James Potter’s tongue was in her mouth and her drunken brain found this so hilarious that so she proceeded to giggle.

James pulled away and joined in with her laughter, albeit it nervously.

“Hey, you know what we should do?” asked Lily.

“No, what should we do?”

“Race you!” she cried before slipping out of James’ arms and running at full speed in the opposite direction.

James easily picked up enough speed to keep her in sight, but she appeared to be running rather aimlessly. She kept veering this way and that, seemingly covering almost every inch of the village green, circling the war memorial as she did so.

“Where are we racing to?” he called after her.

Upon hearing his voice, Lily stopped by a nearby tree and put her hand on it. She was breathing very heavily as she said, “I won.”

Reaching the tree himself, James leaned against it and took a moment to catch his breath. Her face was starting to blur before his eyes, but he could still see that she was grinning at him.

“I think I need to sleep for about twenty four hours,” said James.

“I think I could stay up for ages,” she replied.

The temptation to stay up with her was overwhelming, but Angie would kill him if he wasn’t home soon and there was an irritating ringing in his ears.

“I’m gonna go to bed,” he announced. “I’ll walk you home?”

She nodded in agreement, feeling a sudden wave of fatigue wash over her.

* * *

 

The following morning, Lily awoke to the sound of banging on her bedroom door. Lifting her head and groaning, Dorcas burst into the room.

Behind her, Mary was scolding, “What’s the point of knocking if you don’t wait for an answer?”

“Why are you here?” asked Lily, her voice hoarse. “What time is it?”

“Seven in the morning,” said Dorcas brightly.

Lily groaned for a second time and pulled her duvet up over her head.

“I don’t know what you’re groaning about,” said Mary. “You got out of doing any tidying up by getting a bit tipsy.”

“Why are you here?” repeated Lily, glad that the duvet was covering her face as she had started to go red at the memories of the night before.

Dorcas pulled the covers back and climbed into bed beside Lily.

“We’re going to tell Fabian the bad news,” she said.

* * *

 

By half seven, the entire disco-planning committee had gathered on the village green and were making their way to visit the Prewett farm.

Fabian greeted them warmly, inviting him into the living room and insisting they all sat on the available sofas and chairs while he leaned against the bookcase. Lily glanced at James and suddenly went very red, flushed with embarrassment. She thought it best not to sit near him.

Fabian spoke before anyone else could.

 “I can’t thank you enough,” he said. “Marlene stopped by last night to let us know how well it went.

The teenagers all shared looks as a small brunette rushed into the room.

“Hi, Hestia,” greeted Lily.

Hestia wrapped her arms around Fabian’s waist as he embraced her

“We’ve got some good news on our side too,” said Fabian.

“Fabian finally proposed to me,” cried Hestia with excitement.

“Finally?” he asked sceptically.

“You heard me. Now who wants some tea?”

Peter was the only one who accepted her offer, but Hestia bustled off to make tea for everyone nonetheless.

“You look happy,” said Lily, noting Fabian’s grin.

“That’s because everything right now is bloody fantastic,” he replied.

“Listen, we have something to tell you about last night,” began Remus.

Sirius spoke over him, “We don’t reckon McKinnon could’ve properly explained how well it actually went.” Remus turned to Sirius with a raised eyebrow, but Sirius continued, “But we’ve got to figure out how much money we actually made before we can give it to you. Some of the profit has to go to James’ aunt to pay her back for all the crisps and fizzy drinks.”

“She said she’d tell me how much we owe her tonight,” added James, assisting Sirius in his lie.

Lily shot him a look, but he refused to meet her eye.

Fabian seemed perfectly unaware that the majority of the teenagers before him were trying to hide confused expressions. If he had noticed anything then he was quickly distracted by the return of his fiancée complaining that the kettle wasn’t working properly.

“Have you plugged it in?” he asked.

“Of course I’ve plugged it in. I’m not an idiot,” she snapped.

With a sigh, Fabian followed Hestia back into the kitchen.

James called after them, “Don’t worry about the tea, we need to go anyway.”

* * *

 

Once they were outside, Remus rounded on James and Sirius.

“What the hell was that about?” he asked sternly.

“Don’t look at me,” said James, distancing himself from Sirius. “I was just trying to cover up his bullshit.”

“It’s fine,” said Sirius. “Fabian’s gonna get paid.”

“But we got conned out of the money,” Dorcas reminded him.

A stray chicken appeared from behind her and she let out a scream.

“Yeah, I think he knows that,” said James once the chicken had passed. “Which is why I’m wondering how Sirius thinks we’re going to get out of this mess.”

 “We can find another way to raise the money, but it’s gonna take a while,” said Lily. “We have to tell him.”

 “There’s nothing to worry about. I’m going to get the money back from the bastards who stole it,” promised Sirius.

“How are you gonna do that?” asked Peter.

“I’ve got my ways. I’ll have that money by Monday. I swear.”

“Well that’s not cryptic at all. I have complete faith in your success,” said Mary sarcastically. “I’m gonna talk to my dad about raising more money. Who wants to join me? ”

There was a mixture of mumbling agreement and awkward coughing. Sirius took the hint and stormed off by himself.

“What does he think he’s gonna do?” asked Lily of the person closest to her. She gave a start when she saw that it was Peter and not Mary as she had thought. Seeing her female friends walking slightly further up the path, Lily realised that she had wound up between Peter, Remus, and James Potter.

Giving James an awkward smile, the pair continued in silence, listening as Remus and Peter exchanged theories as to what Sirius was planning on doing to get the money back.

This carried on until they reached the vicarage, following Mary’s lead.

They filed into the house one by one.

Lily had somehow wound up at the back of the queue, right behind James. She tried to stare directly at her feet in order to hide the blush that was rising in her cheeks. This was closest they had been since he had declared his exhaustion by the tree less than twelve hours ago.

 “Hey, Lily,” said James, turning to face her. “After this, do you think we could talk?”

“Yes!” cried Lily, her enthusiasm a little excessive. “Sorry, I just think that’d be a really good idea.”

“Okay, then we will talk.”

“Yes we will,” she agreed.

Mary stuck her head out of the front door and said, “Are you coming in or what?”

Silently, but smiling, Lily and James followed Mary into the house.

* * *

 

The church did several fundraisers a year, partially for the upkeep of the building itself, but mostly for local charity. Reverend Macdonald did not need much persuading to promise a certain percentage of charitable proceeds to the Prewett farm.

Given this, Lily found herself side-by-side with James Potter on a bench just down the road a lot sooner than expected.

Even though both of them were eager to talk about the night before, neither of them felt comfortable initiating the conversation.

James seemed more interested in a speck of mud on his jeans and Lily was scratching an imaginary itch on her forearm.

“So Sirius has lost his mind,” said Lily, breaking the silence.

“Yeah, even I can’t think of what he’s gonna do. Short of beating the money out of them, I honestly don’t know. They’re not gonna give it up for anything. I’m not against getting them back or anything. I’m all for it actually, but I’d prefer it if we sat down and worked it out together first.” James stared off into the distance, deep in thought, for a few moments before shaking his head and adding, “Still, he’s not a baby. He can watch himself. I just hope whatever he’s planning works out.”

“It was nearly breaking my heart in there,” admitted Lily, nodding in the vague direction of the Prewett farm. “They just seemed so happy. It would’ve been so hard to shit on that by telling them.”

“Well let’s hope Sirius can work some magic.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t go with him if I’m honest.”

“If he’d wanted me involved he could’ve told me what was going on,” snapped James.

Lily knew that this was another pride thing, one that she herself could understand, so she let it go.

“It’s cold, isn’t it?” observed Lily, diverting the conversation.

James ruffled his hair in an attempt to appear nonchalant as he said, “Not as cold as last night.”

And there it was. It would’ve been incredibly easy to divert the conversation once more, but Lily didn’t know how long they could dance around the topic for.

“Yeah but there was alcohol in my system. It was like a nice warm blanket.”

A small smile played in the corner of James’ mouth.

“You kissed me,” he said.

“Yeah… Sorry about that.”

“Don’t be. I thoroughly enjoyed it.”

“Well, I’m sorry for running away then.”

“Yeah that was a huge blow to my pride. I mean, I thought I was well in there when really you were just tricking me into a running race.”

“In my defense, I’d have rather had an egg and spoon race but I couldn’t get the props on such short notice.”

“So you really just wanted to race?” he asked, pulling a wounded expression.

“Yeah, sorry.”

“And here I was thinking you fancied me.”

Lily scoffed, “You’re so arrogant, Potter. Can’t a girl snog a boy in the middle of a graveyard without being accused of fancying him?”

James laughed.

“Well, I wasn’t just going off the snog,” he told her.

“Oh, no?”

“Yeah. There’s also the fact that I’m generally irresistible.”

“You really are very charming. Like a white knight from a great romance,” she joked.

“I do try.”

“I bet you do. How many times have you read Romeo and Juliet for inspiration?”

“In all seriousness though. How shit is Romeo and Juliet?”

“So shit!” cried Lily. “It’s so stupid.”

“I know. Why didn’t they just run away?”

Lily frowned.

“That’s not the stupid part,” she said. “If they’d run away then they’d never have been able to see their family again. What I don’t understand is why they had to kill themselves.”

“Because they were so in love that they couldn’t live without each other?” suggested James.

“Oh, come off it! They barely knew each other. They just really fancied each other.”

“And obviously that’s not the proper way to behave when you fancy someone,” he said, leaning a little closer to Lily.

“Well, I can’t imagine you’ve got much of a chance with someone who’s just offed themselves,” replied Lily.

“I suppose the proper thing to do when you fancy someone is to lure them into a graveyard for some late-night wall-scaling and kissing.”

“Exactly.”

Lily couldn’t help but glance at James’ lips.

“What about asking someone out? Is that the proper thing to do if you fancy someone?” he asked.

Lily’s eyes travelled back up James’ face and to his eyes. She could see her reflection in his glasses and was filled was sudden desire to fix her hair.

Suppressing this urge, she answered, “Only if you pick the right moment. If you ask a girl out while you’re hanging her friend out of a window by his ankles, not to mention if she’s already seeing somebody, then that’s probably not the best moment.”

“Interesting,” he mused. “See I never would have guessed that. Sounds like a great moment to ask a girl out to me."

Lily let out a purposeful fake laugh which caused James to scowl at her.

"Okay, so when is a good moment?” he said.

“Well, I’d say that if you were both single and getting along pretty well and you happened to be alone, say, on a bench. That would be a pretty good time.”

“Oh, give me a break!” cried James. “When’s that ever gonna happen?”

Lily scrunched up her face at James, who stuck his tongue out in response.

She very much wanted to kiss him, but was saved the trouble of initiating it as James moved his head incredibly close to hers. Closing her eyes, she allowed their lips to meet. A bit too affected by alcohol to truly appreciate kissing James Potter the previous night, Lily noted that he was rather fantastic at it. She lifted her feet up off the floor and draped her legs over his. Quite suddenly, Lily was flooded with worry that this might have been a little too forward. A vision of herself kissing James with a rather unattractive, unskilled vigour crept into Lily’s mind and she was not quite sure if it had really happened that way or not. She was almost certain she had bit his bottom lip. She thought she must be awful to kiss.

These concerns were forced into exile when she felt James’s smile against her lips, one arm around her waist, pulling her close, the other hand gripping her red hair.

* * *

 

Regulus was, rightly, suspicious of his big brother’s motives when he announced he would be joining them at the Rosier’s for their dinner party. He would not soon forget the taste of piss and could not imagine ever being able to stomach Babycham again.

Still, his mother was never one to pass up the opportunity to feel as though she had won.

Walburga Black had spent what felt like half her life arguing with her eldest son, trying to force him into doing things he absolutely refused to do. Attending dinner parties was something she had never stopped screaming at him over and the fact that Sirius had agreed to attend the past two gave her a rather great sense of achievement.

And so, the entire family of four made their way down from their large house to a slightly larger house.

Sirius put on a charming smile as he followed Regulus through to the sitting room that had been assigned to the younger guests.

Mulciber started upon seeing him.

“Good evening,” greeted Sirius, his tone half pleasant, half threatening. “You all look fantastic and whatnot. Now, who came up with that absolutely genius plan to con a poor farming family out of all that money?”

Regulus sighed, quickly distancing himself from his older brother while Sirius’ distant cousin Ascella shot him a disdainful look as the others tried to keep stony expressions.

Janine was the only one there who looked genuinely confused.

“I mean it,” continued Sirius, taking the arm chair nearest to him and making sure to make himself as comfortable in it as possible, “It was a genius plan. So that means it can’t have been Mulciber.”

Mulciber clenched his fist, but remained seated after Rosier shot him a warning glance. It would not have been a good idea to start a fight in the room where his mother kept their fancy china in even fancier antique cabinets.

Sirius’ eyes darted around the room, reading everybody’s faces. If he wasn’t mistaken, Severus Snape was sporting a rather smug smile.

“Snivellus,” said Sirius. “Lily thinks you had something to do with it, but I reckon that’s just her soft spot for you talking. I don’t think you’re that smart.”

“You must be right, Black. I have no idea what you talking about,” replied Snape with a great air of superiority.

Even if Snape hadn’t met Avery’s eye and shared a not-so-discreet smirk, his guilt would still be obvious to even a complete stranger.

A cruel grin spread across Sirius’ face.

* * *

 

Sirius knew he had to wait for his moment, the moment when he could get Snape alone. He was planning on ambushing him outside the loo, but after a couple of hours Sirius was beginning to think Snape had a bladder of steel.

Finally, as after-dinner drinks were being passed around and everybody had retired to their respective living rooms Snape separated himself from the group and made his way towards the toilets.

Sirius waited about a minute before following.

He had expected to catch Snape by surprise as he left the loo, but Snape was already leaning against the door, waiting for him.

“You’ve been staring at me all night, Black. What do you want?” he asked.

“I just wanted a quick chat.”

Snape opened his mouth to make a snide comment, but was interrupted by Sirius grabbing him by the shoulders and pushing him against the wall.

Although his eyes were wide with fear, Severus forced his smug smile to stay put.

“It was your idea, wasn’t it?” demanded Sirius, looking at Severus with utter disgust.

“Of course it was. Do you think any of the others are smart enough? They’re all about throwing pennies at girls and beating up football players.”

Sirius nodded slowly, lifting one of his hands off of Snape’s shoulder.

“Can I go now?” said Snape in a bored voice.

In response, Sirius pulled a penknife out of his pocket. He held it right up to Snape’s cheek, letting the blade brush his skin.

“You’re absolutely insane,” cried Snape.

“This is just a warning, Snivellus,” muttered Sirius darkly. “If you’re not down on that village green tomorrow evening at six with that money then I will kill you.”

There was a mad glint in Sirius’ eyes that told Snape he was not joking.

“Do you understand me?” asked Sirius.

“I’m not a child, Black. I understand perfectly.”

“Good.”

Before he released Snape, Sirius dug the knife into his cheek ever so slightly, drawing a tiny drop of blood and said, “There’s more where that came from. Now go.”

Snape fled with as much dignity as he could muster.

* * *

 

Having been informed of the meeting Sirius was planning to have with Snape on the village green that evening, Regulus took it upon himself to intervene. For this reason, he did something he had not done since he was a small child and visited his brother’s bedroom.

“Piss off,” said Sirius, seeing Regulus’ outline in the doorway.

“Don’t go down to the green. It’s just gonna be trouble.”

“I thought I told you to piss off.”

“Please just stay out of it, Sirius,” pleaded Regulus.

“Why should I do that?”

“So you don’t get hurt.”

“Are you threatening me?”

“No!” cried Regulus. Then, in a stern tone he added, “Look, I’m not gonna do anything to you, but I can’t trust that Mulciber won’t.”

Sirius scoffed, “Some great friends you’ve got there Regulus. Really top notch gang.”

“Sirius,” he began.

“Piss off.”

* * *

 

Lily sorely regretted asking Petunia for fashion advice. Not just because she kept insisting that Lily borrow one of her many skirts, all of which were “a suitable length,” and did not give off “an air of prostitution,” as Lily’s skirts supposedly did, but also because she kept making snide comments.

“It’s just such a short notice date,” complained Petunia. “Didn’t he only ask you yesterday? He hasn’t left himself much time to prepare.”

“Well he did say that if we waited until Monday then he could get us a table at the Ritz, but I said I’d prefer the local pub,” said Lily, holding her stomach in as she attempted to zip up one of Petunia’s nicer dresses.

Petunia was far skinnier than Lily.

“You’re not as funny as you think you are,” snapped Petunia.

“I disagree.”

“What’s this boy’s name again?”

“James,” said Lily.

Petunia made a noise. She had already made it clear several times that she thought James was a rather common name.

Before Lily could respond, the two girls heard a knock on the front door. Their mother was visiting their father at the hospital so they had an argument over who should go and answer it. A minute later, Lily, who Petunia had managed to squeeze into the dress, opened the door to see Severus Snape.

Her face fell.

“Severus?”

“Look at this,” he said without missing a beat, pointing to a small scab on his cheek. “This is what one of your new friends did to me.”

Lily was thoroughly confused, but pushed the door open wide so that he could enter.

“Alright,” she muttered. “You can come in and explain yourself. But then you leave.”

* * *

 

In the dark of evening, Sirius stood firmly in the middle of the village green, an angry frown upon his face and his hands stuffed in his pockets. He had not taken his eyes off of the road that led up to the big houses for the past five minutes. Severus was late.

It was only when Sirius spotted a gang of three Richies, none of whom were Severus Snape, that Sirius knew he was being set up.

“Where’s your beloved mastermind?” asked Sirius of Rosier, Mulciber, and Avery.

“Don’t get your knickers in a twist,” said Rosier. “We have your money.”

Mulciber held up the plastic carrier bag he was holding in his right hand. The sound of coins clattering against each other rang out.

“Hand it over then,” said Sirius.

With a single shared look, the three Richies took off across the green. Sirius didn’t wait a moment to follow.

They stopped outside the post office, Avery holding up a hand to indicate Sirius should stay back.

“What was that about?” asked Sirius, glaring.

“We’re just donating your money to charity,” explained Mulciber. “I thought that’s what you wanted.”

Sirius was utterly perplexed as he watched Mulciber reach into the bag he was still clutching and pull out a pound coin. It was then that Sirius noticed the large plastic dog just by the post office door, a small slit on top of its head where people can put money they would like to donate to a charity which funds dogs for the blind. Mulciber dropped the pound coin in.

Realising what was about to happen, Sirius made to leap forwards and attack Mulciber. Unfortunately, this turn of events had already been accounted for and Rosier and Avery were holding Sirius back before he could make a move on their leader.

They held him there as Mulciber emptied the entire contents of the bag into the dog-shaped charity box, there to collect coins for guide dogs.

Once the last coin dropped, Mulciber threw the empty plastic bag at Sirius’ face. It lost momentum and dropped halfway between them, but the sentiment remained.

“If you want the money that badly, you can try and break the dog open. It’d be a bit immoral though, wouldn’t it? I mean, what kind of sod steals from charity?”

With that, the three boys took off at full speed, leaving Sirius to stare hopelessly at the plastic dog. He briefly considered breaking it open over Mulciber’s head, but decided against it. There was no chance he could bring himself to effectively steal from the blind. Not only that, but he did not feel that this was the time for revenge. This was the time for whiskey.

* * *

 

James was surprised to open his front door to find Lily Evans wearing a hideous dress half an hour before their date was supposed to start.

“Bit keen aren’t you, Evans?” he asked.

“James, Sirius did something really bad,” replied Lily sadly.

The moment Lily had told James what Sirius had done to Snape, James had called out to Angie, saying that he was going out and wouldn’t be back for a while. Then, slamming the front door behind him, stormed off in the direction of the woods.

Lily had to run to keep up.

She followed him for half a mile, all the time wondering if James had lost his mind. Then, they stumbled across a hill she remembered from walks as a child, the one with the wishing well.

James ran up the hill, leaving Lily to catch her breath at the bottom.

James yell at someone Lily could not see, “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

When she heard Sirius reply, “Leave me alone, James. I’m not in the mood," she thought it best to climb the hill herself and make sure nobody was murdered.

 “You can’t just threaten to kill people, Sirius,” cried James. “What the fuck was going through your head?”

“Oh, come on, James, the git deserved it!”

James glared back, breathing heavily, filled with anger. Lily shifted uncomfortably, standing a small distance behind James.

Sirius cried, “His mates did far worse to you!”

“And we got our own back. They drank my piss!”

“Well maybe they respond better to violence. It’s more on their level.”

“I don’t care!” bellowed James.  “We do not sink down to their level! They are scum.”

Lily’s eyes settled on James and did not leave his face again before the conversations end.

“You know, if you can’t see that you did something completely fucked up then you’re just as bad as they are,” said James.

And Sirius knew, deep down, that James was completely right. The apology Sirius so badly wanted to voice was caught in his throat, held there by pride. Instead he merely bowed his head, refusing to meet James’ eye, in some passive form of submission.

James turned away, storming back down the hill.

Lily shot Sirius a look full of disappointment, but there was nothing to say that James had not already said.

Following James, Lily left Sirius alone by his well.

* * *

 

Lily was unsure of what to do. She had followed James from his house, to the local disused well, to his bedroom and he had still not said a word to her since he’d opened the front door to her almost an hour ago.

James lay across the end of the bed, repeatedly throwing a cricket ball into the air, catching it more often than not, picking it up off the floor a few times. Lily was curled up at the head of the bed, nosily inspecting the room.

It wasn’t at all messy, which surprised her. She had expected it to be revolting. There were no clothes on the floor, just a plate of what looked like toast crumbs and two half-empty mugs of cold tea.

Whether Angie went out of her way to ensure that James’ room was tidy or not Lily did not know, but she suspected that James took a certain pride in his belongings.

“Your room’s cleaner than mine,” said Lily.

James caught cricket ball and then, sitting up to look at her, let it drop to the floor.

“Sorry?” he asked, as though coming out of a daze.

Lily suddenly regretted saying anything at all, let alone something so stupid. Perhaps she should have gone home already.

“Would you like me to leave?” she offered.

“No,” he replied emphatically “I’m glad to have the company. Sorry I haven’t said much.” Lily raised an eyebrow. “Or anything at all,” he corrected.

“It’s fine.”

Nodding slowly, James settled back down on the bed again.

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked.

“No,” he said very quickly. “Do you want to steal some of my Aunt’s mince pies?”

Lily thought for a moment before answering, “I would absolutely love that.”

Several minutes, a few creaky floorboards, and half a box of mine pies later, James’ mood had lifted significantly.

“Let’s play a game,” he said, shoving another mince pie in his mouth and strutting over to the radio. “Okay, now do you think the next song will be great of awful?”

“Is there no in between? What if I think it’s mediocre?”

“No. There is only great and awful in this game. No in between.”

“Fine, then I predict great.”

 Without further ado, James turned on the radio. Don’t Go Breaking My Heart blasted out, filling the room with the croons of Elton John and Kiki Dee. James quickly turned it down to a lower volume.

 “Awful,” he said, throwing himself back onto the bed beside Lily. “What do you think the next song will be?”

“Probably awful if this song is anything to go by,” she replied. . “Is this the whole game? Can’t we play cards or something?”

“This is a great game! I used to play it with my dad all the time. You’ve just got to give it time.”

“Fine,” she conceded, picking up another mince pie. “You wanna hear something weird? I hate raisins but I love mince pies.”

Before James could express his confusion at this bizarre, contradictory statement, Don’t Go Breaking My Heart turned into Fernando.

“Sorry,” he said, nodding his head towards the radio. “Wrong again.”

“No, I said awful.”

“Oh, come off it. This song isn’t awful.”

Lily snorted, “It’s not great.”

“It’s alright.”

“There’s no in between, James!” she cried in mock exasperation. “It has to either be awful or great. Now think very carefully. Are you really willing to label this song as great? To put it up there with the likes of Stairway to Heaven and Blitzkrieg Bop?”

“Okay. You win this round, Evans.” He waggled a finger at her before climbing off the bed and picking up the radio once more. “Now, awful or great?”

“Awful.”

James changed the radio station, cutting off ABBA before they could reach the second chorus and joining Starland Vocal Band in the middle of Afternoon Delight.

“Oh, God. So awful,” he said, not waiting another second to change the radio station once more. Upon hearing the song that had just started playing, James clapped his hands and pumped his fist in excitement.

“This is awful too,” said Lily, confused by James’ enthusiasm.

“Are you kidding me? This is Barry White.”

“Yeah and he’s shit.”

James raised an eyebrow at her before shifting to his knees, facing Lily on the bed, and joining his beloved Barry White in song.

“I know there's only, only one like you, there’s no way they could have made two,” he serenaded Lily in a rather poor singing voice.

Lily was trying desperately to hold back laughter, but couldn’t help from letting out a high pitched squeal.

Unfazed, James continued, “You're all I'm living for, your love I'll keep forevermore. First, you're the last, my everything.”

“This is so weird,” she breathed.

At that moment Angie burst into James’ bedroom, her long hair tied back in a plait and wearing a dressing gown.

“James, what are you doing to this poor girl?”

Turning rather red, James explained, “I was singing.”

“It was bloody awful. I don’t think Lily needs to hear that. Now keep it down.”

With that she left.

Lily stuffed her knuckle in her mouth to stop from laughing hysterically until she was sure Angie was out of earshot.  James buried his head in the duvet.

Upon hearing Angie’s foot leave the bottom stair, Lily threw her head back in laughter, accidentally hitting it upon the wall.

“Are you alright?” asked James, his head snapping up.

Lily just shrugged and continued to laugh as Barry White faded into a weather report.

* * *

 

Shoulder’s slumped and spirits crushed, Sirius attempted to put on a brave face as he knocked on the Prewett’s front door. Mr. Prewett answered.

“Hello, how can I help you?” he asked, looking suspiciously at Sirius’ long hair.

Mr. Prewett was a plump, ginger, middle-aged man, who only ate food that grew on his own farm and hated when the radio played songs with French lyrics. He was the sort of person who was suspicious of anything he was not accustomed to. For instance, teenage boys with long hair.

Fortunately, Mr. Prewett was also a pleasant man so welcomed Sirius into his home as soon as he explained he was there to see Fabian.

“Just wait here and I’ll get him,” said Mr. Prewett, pointing Sirius towards the living room and disappearing upstairs.

Far too restless to sit, Sirius paced up and down. He was careful not to jump when Fabian entered the room and said, “Sirius?”

“Hi,” greeted Sirius nervously. “Can I talk to you for a bit?”

Fabian nodded and made to sit, but upon noticing that Sirius had no intention of taking a seat himself, he pretended as though he was simply inspecting the sofa for stains. After tutting pointedly at a dark spot which had been there for over ten years, he looked at Sirius expectantly.

“I have to tell you something,” said Sirius. “We lost the money from the disco.”

Trying to keep a calm exterior, Fabian simply said, “Okay.”

“Well, it was stolen from us. The bloody rich kids conned us out and it and the only reason we didn’t tell you was because I thought I could get it back, but I couldn’t,” admitted Sirius. “I am getting a motorbike for Christmas though. If I sell that then everything’s sorted.”

 “No,” said Fabian quickly, shaking his head. “I’m not gonna take that money. That motorbike’s yours. End of. You can’t sacrifice yourself to make other people happy, Sirius. Do you understand?”

Sirius nodded solemnly.

 


	14. Remus' Moustache and Other Bad Jokes

**Chapter Fourteen: Remus’ Moustache and Other Bad Jokes**

Sirius and James were no longer speaking to each other. This was agreed upon with absolutely no discussion, but both seemed rather pleased with the arrangement.

Peter and Remus had been rather confused at first about the fact that Sirius was missing from their lunchtime chess sessions until James explained everything. Peter and Remus then agreed that, at least for a while, it should just be the three of them.

The trouble was that James had wound up sitting with Lily every day lunch that week and so the chess club had become two men short instead of just one.

“I suppose it’s just me and you now,” said Peter gloomily one lunch, using a knight to take Remus’ bishop.

“It seems like it,” sighed Remus before adding conversationally, “You know, I’ve started growing a moustache.”

Peter looked at Remus curiously, his gaze focused on the small hairs he now noticed sprouting on Remus’ upper lip.

“Oh, yeah. I can see that now.”

It wasn’t until the last French lesson of the term, almost a week after the incident on the hill, that Sirius communicated with any of his friends at all.

By Friday, Remus’ moustache was noticeable to anyone who glanced at him, which Sirius did as he sat down at the beginning of French. Instinctively, Sirius turned his head to catch James’ eye, filled with a need to mock the patchy, wiry strip of hair beneath Remus’ nose.

Remus remained oblivious to this as he unpacked his bag. James also remained oblivious as he was far too busy attempting to tickle Lily with a feather he had found outside on the ground.

“James, get that thing away from my face!” she cried, any intentions of a stern tone lost beneath laughter.

“I just want to see if you like pigeons. This is what you did to me yesterday with that buttercup.”

He brought the feather beneath her chin once more before she attempted to grab it from his clutches.

“It’s not the same thing,” said Lily.

“Says who?”

Lily laughed again as James waved the feather at her.

“That buttercup thing is a myth you know,” said Remus conversationally. “They make your chin look yellow whether you like butter or not.”

James and Lily both turned with vaguely surprised expressions, as though they had forgotten that other people attended French class. That was when James saw the moustache.

Before he could stop himself, James’ eyes met Sirius’ and they sniggered.

"What?” asked Remus, thoroughly confused.

When Sirius and James merely went on to share a concerned look. Remus turned to Lily for assistance, but she appeared to be busy taking down notes. If he looked closely, however, he saw that she was biting back a smile.

“What?” repeated Remus.

But, unfortunately for Remus, James and Sirius had not forgotten their feud and so went back to ignoring each other before providing an answer.

* * *

 

That afternoon, James was sat on Lily’s bedroom floor losing rather badly to Monopoly. Dorcas was losing even more spectacularly, Lily was surviving on her stations, and Mary was in her element.

“This is brilliant!” cried Mary, counting her fake money. “I’ve never won by such a landslide before.”

James made a face at her.

In response, she threw the dice at to catch with an upbeat cry of, “Your turn.”

He rolled with a frown on his face.

“I’m gonna get a packet of crisps,” announced Mary triumphantly, getting to her feet. “If you land on any of my properties, make sure to pay me. Not that it matters; I’ll win anyway.”

“I’ll come with you,” said Dorcas. “I’d like some wine.”

“That’s my mum’s wine,” protested Lily, but Dorcas had already vanished behind Mary.

With a sigh, Lily shifted herself to sit next to James, who had claimed the best patch of floor, the spot by the bed so he could lean back against it.

“This feels fantastic,” said Lily, leaning against the bed herself. “Switch places with me?”

“Not a chance in hell.”

Before Lily could argue back, Dorcas reappeared for a brief moment.

“By the way,” she said, sticking her head around the door. “Please try and keep your hands off of each other while we’re downstairs. I don’t want to walk in on anything unseemly.”

“You once told me a story about a boy who whipped his penis out in front of you,” said James.

“Besides, me and James don’t do anything unseemly,” cried Lily.

“That love bite on James’ neck tells a different story,” said Dorcas, before vanishing again.

James ran a nervous hand through his hair before it reached his neck where he rubbed the love bite distractedly.

“Sorry,” said Lily. “I really should’ve done it somewhere less noticeable.”

She leaned over to inspect the mark and was silently impressed with herself upon seeing how big it was.

“It’s not that. I’m just thinking that maybe I should spend less time with your friends,” he admitted.

“Got your fill of Mary and Dorcas this week?”

“Pretty much.”

“Plus you blatantly miss Sirius," teased Lily.

James lightly kicked Lily’s foot with his own, signally that he would rather now go down that route. In turn, Lily poked him in the ribs. At once, James let out a small yelp.

“Oh, Sorry!” she cried, immediately shifting to her knees so she could see him properly and make sure he wasn’t too hurt. “I forgot about that.”

The day before James and Lily had been snogging on her bed when Lily’s cat Brutus had jumped onto James’ back causing him to fall off of Lily and onto the floor in shock. In doing so he had landed the cricket ball he sincerely regretted bringing with him. Especially since he was beginning to think that Lily didn’t even notice how he looked particularly cool when throwing it up in the air and catching it. As a result of all this, James had wound up with a rather nasty looking bruise on his left side.

“I blame your cat entirely,” said James.

“Brutus just likes you.”

“Well, I don’t like him.”

“Well, I don’t like you.”

“Nah, everyone likes me.”

Lily pulled a face at James before reaching, placing her hands on either side of his head, and ruffling his hair like a dog.

“What are you doing?” he asked, amused.

“Now you look stupid,” she said proudly, taking her hands of off his head.

After a quick glance at the floor-length mirror that leaned against the wall across the room, James noticed that his hair looked almost exactly as it had before.

“I look the same,” he said.

“Exactly!” she cried before bursting into laughter, falling into James.

Lily let out a violent snort from laughing so hard.

A voice came from the other side of the door, “Why is Lily making that noise?” asked Dorcas.

“She told a joke that wasn’t funny,” James called back.

Dorcas obviously found this a believable response as she opened the door a few seconds later holding a bottle of wine in one hand and another underneath her armpit. Mary was behind her holding a bowl of crisps and a packet of apples.

“You helped yourself then?” asked Lily.

“Your mum came back and wouldn’t let us come back up without enough food for everyone,” said Mary, placing the food on the floor.

James gave a small start. Having not encountered Lily’s mother since that time he’d brought a bloodied Kenneth into her home, the idea that a meeting with her might be sprung upon him had put him a little on edge.

“Am I allowed to be in your bedroom?” he muttered nervously in Lily’s ear.

“I don’t know. Probably,” she said off-handedly. “Now, whose go is it?”

After Mary had gained such a huge lead that the other three saw no point in continuing the game, Lily followed her three guests downstairs to see them out of her home.

James tried to move as swiftly as he could without drawing attention to himself, but Jill Evans easily spotted the gangly black-haired boy towering above his female companions. Getting up off the sofa and rushing into the hall, Jill managed to catch James before he got to the front door.

“Hello,” she greeted, holding her hand out. “Who’s this, Lily? I didn’t realise you had a boy over.”

Her enthusiasm relaxed James a little, but he was a little hurt that she didn’t recognise him.

Mary nodded a goodbye at James as shee moved past him to leave.

Dorcas whispered, “Good luck,” and kissed his cheek before following Mary.

“Oh, are you with Dorcas?” asked Jill.

“No,” said Lily so quickly that James had to hold back a smirk.

“Would you like a cup of tea?” said Jill.

James wasn’t entirely sure how it had happened, but in the time it took to wait for his tea to cool (not to mention the few seconds he spent trying to fish out half a rich tea biscuit he’d dunked for a little too long) he had not only agreed to have dinner with Lily’s family on Boxing Day, but he’d also been forced to bullshit his career plans and explain where exactly in France his parents had moved.

Lily seemed to find the whole thing rather amusing.

“You know, I feel like I’ve seen you before,” said Jill as James downed his cup of tea.

“James was the one that carried Kenneth here when you had to take him to the hospital,” explained Lily casually.

“Oh, how is Kenneth? I miss seeing that boy around,” said Jill.

James shifted uncomfortably. Lily noticed this and told her mum that James had to leave soon or else he’d be late for dinner.

Back in the hallway once more, James was filled with gratitude towards Lily. He’d never had to impress a girl’s parents before. He’d once met Tanya Rainford’s dad, but the conversation had pretty much consisted of Mr. Rainford shouting that James needed to get out of his house before he called the police. In retrospect, James didn’t think that sitting next to a girl who had invited you over to watch TV was a criminal offence, but he had still bolted from the house and did not speak to Tanya the next day at school out of embarrassment.

“Stop worrying,” said Lily, grabbing James’ chin so that he was forced to look her in the eye. “You were fine.”

“I know I was fine,” said James with false confidence, grabbing Lily’s chin himself.

“Well, this is ridiculous.”

Lily let go of James’ chin and leaned up to give him a small kiss. Once they pulled apart, Lily went to open the door.

“See you tomorrow?” he asked, stepping outside.

“Sounds good. I’ll meet you on the green at eleven.”

“Can we maybe go somewhere?”

“Where? The buses come three times a day and go places with even less going on than here. Unless you want to catch a train, but we’re both shit poor.”

“We could go for a walk,” he suggested.

Lily thought for a moment before saying, “Okay, I think I know a place. Bring some food with you."

James leant over the threshold to give her one last kiss goodbye before going home.

* * *

 

When Peter knocked for Remus the next day at noon, he found his friend was still in his pyjamas.

“Really, Remus?” said Peter.

“It’s the Christmas holidays,” reasoned Remus. “Besides it’s not like we do anything anymore. James is with Lily all the time and Sirius is God knows where.”

“Well, at least your moustache is coming along nicely.”

Remus invited Peter inside where the two boys found themselves watching TV for the entire day.

* * *

 

That evening, as James and Lily walked back from the woods they bickered about the ‘lake’ Lily had brought them to.

“It’s not a lake if I can jump across it,” said James defiantly. “It’s a pond at best and that’s me being generous.”

“I remember it being bigger when my dad used to take me. Anyway, you didn’t jump across it,” scoffed Lily.

“But I could’ve.”

“You would’ve fallen in and you know you would have. It was nowhere near as small as you’re making it out to be.”

“It was pretty tiny.”

“You would’ve fallen in."

“Not a chance.”

“Okay," said Lily, stopping still in the middle of the pavement. "Do you wanna go back? I’m sure there’s enough time before dinner to get to the pond and back.”

Seizing his hand in hers, she leaned backwards so that if he let go of her she would fall.

“What is this supposed to be?” asked James.

“Let’s go to the pond.”

“Fine,” he said, pulling her towards him so she was firm on her feet. “Let’s go.”

They turned and began walking the way that they had come until James realised that Lily was actually planning on going all the way to the pond.

“Actually,” he said, “I think Angie will be waiting on us for dinner.”

“Coward,” she laughed.

* * *

 

When James and Lily finally reached James’ house, the smell of beef and gravy was wafting through an open window.

“Smells fantastic, Angela,” called James, letting himself in.

He and Lily kicked their shoes off and dumped their coats.

“Don’t call me Angela,” scolded Angie from the kitchen.

Lily tried to push past James to go through the kitchen door first, but James sped up, holding an arm out to block her. Just as James reached the doorway, Lily jumped on his back to weigh him down. He started to laugh, but stopped as soon as he saw who was sitting at the kitchen table.

“Hi,” said Sirius. “Angie invited me.”

James nodded then turned, left the room, and ran upstairs. His bedroom door slammed behind him.

“Maybe he’s gone to get something,” said Lily, not even slightly believing it.

“No, he’s just being a brat," sighed Angie. “He’ll have to come down eventually.”

“It’s fine. I’ll leave. I can tell when I’m not wanted,” said Sirius as casually as possible.

“Sit down,” said Angie firmly. Sirius obeyed.

“Should I go and check on him?” asked Lily.

“No. Everybody’s going to have their dinner and if James doesn’t want him then he can starve up there for all I care. I’ll tell you one thing, if he thinks he’ll be robbing my mince pies in the middle of the night again then he’s got another thing coming.”

* * *

 

Without further questioning, Lily and Sirius ate their dinner in silence. James did not come down to join them.

Once they were finished, Sirius offered to help Angie wash up and Lily snuck upstairs to knock on James’ door.

 “Who is it?” he asked, not opening it.

“The attractive ginger,” she replied.

She heard a creak of bedsprings and the sound of feet hitting the floor before the door opened before her.

“Oh dear,” said James with a sigh. “I really expected Fabian.”

“Well I was hoping this was David Cassidy’s room. We can’t all get what we want.”

As he stepped aside to let her in, he asked, “Why David Cassidy?”

“He’s got beautiful eyes.”

James made sure to lock the door as he shut it.

“Sirius is still here, isn’t he?” he said.

Lily raised a questioning brow.

“I haven’t heard the front door open or close or anything,” he explained.

“Well, you’re not being overly intense about this or anything.”

She threw herself onto his bed.

“That doesn’t answer my question,” said James, lying down beside her.

“Yes, you obsessive creep. Sirius is still here.”

“Well, what does he want?”

“Other than dinner?” offered Lily. “I don’t know. Maybe you should have asked him instead of hiding in your room like a child.”

James let out a long groan and rolled over, placing his head on Lily’s stomach, knocking his glasses slightly askew. She froze for a second, unsure of what to do next. They had certainly done a lot of snogging and flirting that past week, but this felt more intimate than anything they had done before. Unsure of how to handle the situation, she lifted a hand and ran her fingers through his hair.

James did not move away. This reassured her a little so she continued.

“You should talk to Sirius,” she said.

She felt him nod against her stomach. A second later, he had lifted his head, straightened his glasses and reluctantly clambered off of the bed.

“I’m only going to forgive him if he apologises,” he stated.

“That sounds fair.”

When he had gone, Lily wondered if she should wait in his room. Deciding that it was best to stay out of the James and Sirius drama as much as possible, she picked up the book that was on James’ bedside table and started to read.

* * *

 

James stomped down the stairs, his frustration ringing through the house in the form of heavy footsteps.

“We’re in here,” called Angie from the living room.

James stuck his head round the door and saw Sirius lounging in the armchair watching the telly while Angie was perched on the sofa, knitting what looked like a hat.

James gave Sirius a small nod towards the hallway indicating that he didn’t want to have this discussion in front of Angie. Sirius nodded to show he understood and followed James out of the living room and through to the kitchen.

They each took a seat opposite one another.

“Sorry about showing up like this,” said Sirius. “Angie invited me and I thought it was probably time we got talking again. I suppose this wasn’t the way to go about it.”

“Not really. But I guess it’s not as bad as I might have made out. I’ve been told I can be a bit dramatic sometimes.”

Sirius grinned and said, “You? Never.”

“I still think what you did was wrong.”

“Yeah, I’ve been thinking about that and I’ve got to say I agree with you.”

“So you’re sorry?” said James quickly, rather desperate to get this conversation over with as quickly as possible.

“Not exactly. I mean, I am sorry for what I did, but I don’t think you of all people have the right to be so fucked off with me." James scowled, opening his mouth to give an angry reply, but Sirius continued, “Listen to me for a moment, yeah? I think it’s pretty ironic that you’re on your bloody high horse about the shit I’ve done while you ignore all the shit that you do. You’re the one who stuck Snivellus out of a window and pissed on him and you’re the one who got into that fight with the Richies and I’m not saying that you’re worse than I am,” he added quickly, seeing James opening his mouth once more. “But it’d be nice if you stopped pretending to be a saint lording over me every time I fuck up.”

James closed his mouth and nodded.

“Okay,” he said.

“All good?” asked Sirius.

James nodded once more.

“Thank fuck for that. I’ve needed to complain to you about my mum.”

“What’s she done now?” said James, going over to the fridge to rummage for leftovers.

He returned with a bowl of cold potatoes.

“If you’d ever met her you wouldn’t be asking that question. She’s horrible and she’s getting worse. She doesn’t know I’m helping save the Prewett farm. Or at least trying to. If she did she’d probably kill me. Ever since the Prewett’s started showing signs of resisting this golf club rubbish she’s gone from calling the locals ‘riff raff’ to ‘scum’ or sometimes ‘peasants’. Who uses the word peasant these days? I thought we abolished it along with the feudal system. ”

“You should have knifed her instead of Snivellus.”

“Yeah, but I want my motorbike.”

When James had devoured the bowl of potatoes, Sirius decided it was best to leave. He promised James that he’d be over for breakfast tomorrow and that they could have a kick about in the garden, something James had been begging Sirius to do for a couple of months.

James thought that perhaps it was immoral to ask Sirius to do things when he was obviously so desperate to stay on James’ good side, but he decided that his desire to play football was more important than morality.

* * *

 

James found Lily looking very comfortable on his bed, seemingly enthralled in the book ‘I Am Legend’.

“Hi,” said Lily, not looking up. “This book is fantastic, but why are the zombies basically vampires? Did the author get confused?”

“Well, vampires are a sort of zombie really.”

Lily’s head snapped up.

“How’d you figure that one?” she asked.

“Well, zombies are the reanimated dead people, right? So are vampires.”

“But that’s like saying that ghosts are zombies.”

James thought for a moment before shrugging.

“What happened with Sirius?” said Lily, closing the book and tossing it to the side.

As James joined her on the bed, he said, “It was good. We’re friends again. He’s definitely sorry.”

“That’s good. Apologising to you is a good start.”

“A good start?” he asked, confused.

“Well, it’s not just you Sirius pissed off, James,” reasoned Lily. “What about me? What about Remus and Peter?”

“Ah.”

* * *

 

James had the full intention of bringing up the fact that Sirius was not yet done with saying sorry the next day over breakfast, but he found himself enjoying being friends with Sirius once more so very much that he was reluctant to cause any further drama.

It was only was only when he had scored a satisfying number of goals past Sirius that he thought perhaps this was the time to suggest Sirius extend his apologies to a couple of other people.

The two boys lay on the grass of Angie’s small garden, wearing several layers and still shivering slightly.

“Listen, mate,” began James, “Are you planning on apologising to the others as well?”

“You don’t mean Snivellus? I’d rather die.”

“No not Snape. Just Peter and Remus. Also Lily.”

Before Sirius could reply, they were interrupted by Angie’s return from church and calling through from the house, “James, a load of your friends followed me home.”

James and Sirius frowned in confusion at each other, sitting up in unison. Upright, they had a good view of Remus, Peter, Lily, Dorcas, and Mary walking through from the front door to the garden.

Remus visibly tensed when he saw Sirius, receiving a nervous glance from Peter as he did so.

“What’s going on?” asked Remus, nodding at Sirius.

“Oh, good!” cried Dorcas, ignoring the tension and squeezing herself into the spot on the floor between Sirius and James. “You two are friends again.”

Mary and Lily both followed her lead and sat opposite. It was only when Lily realised that Peter and Remus showed no signs of joining them on the grass that she stood back up, feeling rather awkward, slow, and loud as she did so.

“So we’re all friends again now? How nice of you to let us know,” said Remus coldly.

Sirius prepared himself to address the matter at hand as seriously as possible, but was finding it rather difficult to do so when Remus still had that ridiculous moustache on his face.

Swallowing any laughter, Sirius too got to his feet and, in his carelessness almost treading on Mary’s fingers, walked over to where Remus stood.

“It’s been pointed out to me that I owe a few people some apologies. I’m really sorry for fucking everything up,” he said sincerely.

Remus’ expression relaxed into a small smile. Sirius held out his hand for Remus to shake, but Remus pushed it away and pulled him in for an embrace instead.

When they released one another, Peter moved forwards and looked at Sirius with wide, expectant eyes.

“Same goes to you,” said Sirius matter-of-factly, finding this apology thing rather repetitive and tedious.

Peter did not seem to mind though as he too hugged Sirius.

When it was Lily’s turn for an apology, she said, “I’m okay with just a handshake.”

As Sirius took her hand in his he told her that he was very sorry.

“Okay,” said James. “Let’s all sit down and stop apologising and hugging and all that rubbish.”

Remus, Peter, Lily, and Sirius rejoined the circle.

“You know, I wouldn’t mind a hug,” voiced Dorcas.

Mary and Lily shot her a disapproving look. Sirius pretended he hadn’t heard, but his chest puffed out a little.

“By the way,” said James. “Not to be rude or anything, but why are you all here?”

“To talk about what we’re gonna do to raise money next,” replied Mary as though it were obvious.

“I thought your dad was doing that,” said Sirius.

“I thought we were all supposed to help,” she retorted.

“Well, what going on with youth club?" asked Peter. "We don’t have the money from the disco but it still went really well so they’ll let us have a youth club won’t they?”

“Not until after Christmas,” said Remus. “But it won’t make up the money we lost. The hype won’t be as big.”

“Unless we can come up with something as exciting as Christmas,” said Lily sadly.

“Ooh, Valentine’s Day!” cried Dorcas.

“Not a chance,” said Sirius.

“Yeah, Valentine’s Day is shit,” agreed Lily.

There were further murmurs of agreement around the group.

They debated their fund-raising choices for the next hour or so, getting distracted by a rather nasty argument over whether or not tombolas were ‘utter shit’, but not actually reaching any helpful conclusions. Soon, the group agreed it would be best to go their separate ways and come together again in a week or so, once Christmas was over and done with.

"Before we all go. I think there’s something important that we should discuss," voiced Sirius.

"Is it how James and Lily need to stop being so disgusting?" said Dorcas.

"Excuse me," cried Lily. "How are we disgusting?"

"You spent half of lunch this Thursday attacking each other with a buttercup," said Mary.

"In our defence, Lily just wanted to know if I liked butter," reasoned James.

"I don’t think Sirius meant you two," said Peter.

"No, I didn’t," confirmed Sirius. "I meant that awful thing growing between Remus’ nose and mouth."

James laughed without thinking and tried to hind it, a little too late, behind an obviously fake coughing fit.

"What’s wrong with my moustache?" asked Remus defensively.

"Everything’s wrong with it," said Mary before adding, "Sorry."

"Who else hates it?" demanded Remus of the group at large.

Dorcas and Lily raised tentative hands.

"Well, fuck you all," he said, raising his head high. "I like it."

"I like it too," said Peter.

"See?" Remus gestured to Peter. "If I want to seduce the likes of Peter I’m on the right track."

Shortly after they all departed to have lunch at their separate homes.

Angie practically ordered Sirius to stay for ham sandwiches, but he protested that he had neglected Mrs. Ludlow recently and she had promised to make him fried eggs next time he dropped round.

Lily got the ham sandwiches instead.

"You know,” she said thoughtfully, picking at her crusts. "I don’t think Boxing Day will be too bad. My sister’s going to her boyfriend’s for dinner that day so you won’t have to meet him.”

"We hate him, don’t we?" asked James, hoping that he had remembered correctly.

"We hate him a lot."

"How awful is he? Is he actually really nice and you’re just being unfair like how you feel about the great Barry White or is he utter shit like Afternoon Delight?"

"He’s like if Remus’ moustache jumped off his face and performed Afternoon Delight with Captain and Tennille as back up dancers."

"Well at least that’d get Remus’ moustache off of his face."

Lily chuckled.

"By the way," she began as casually as possible. "My dad won’t be there either."

"How come?"

"He’s in the hospital. He sort of lives there."

Lily then took a sudden interest in a scuff on the kitchen table and James could tell that she didn’t particularly want to pursue this area of the conversation so he left it at that.

"Hey, here’s an idea," she said brightly as though the previous minute had never happened. "Why don’t we ask the others what they think about the fundraiser?"

"The others?"

"Well, there were a few people who were interested in helping save the Prewett farm before the disco-planning stuff. They probably still want to help."

"Sounds good to me. Will Kenny be involved? I’ve missed that boy."

"Maybe," replied Lily cautiously. "But you have to be nice to him."

"I’m always nice!" cried James incredulously.

* * *

 

At approximately three o’clock in the afternoon on Christmas day, just as James and Angie were enjoying the Queen’s speech, wearing the scarves they had exchanged, and pulling a cracker every so often (James had jammed four paper crowns of varying colour onto his head) when they heard the sound of a motorbike in the distance.

Angie got up, mumbling in confusion, to glance out of the window.

"It’s Sirius!" she cried in surprise.

James leapt of the sofa so that he too could look out of the window. Sirius was indeed driving around the village green in circles.

"What’s he doing that for?" muttered Angie.

They watched Sirius take one last circle, before he pulled up outside the house. James rushed to go and open the door.

"Hi," greeted Sirius breathlessly, trying to steady the bike beneath him. "Can I stay here for a while? I think my mum might murder me if she spots me any time soon."

"Cool bike," said James. "What did you do to your mum?"

"I drove around the garden a bit and ruined her flowers. Then I broke down the side gate and now I’m here. It was the best Christmas ever. I’d have been here earlier but I couldn’t work out how to drive the bloody thing for a couple of hours. I’ve ridden my uncle Alphard’s bike a few times but mum doesn’t talk to him anymore so I’m a bit out of practice."

"Fair enough."

Before Sirius could even take his shoes off he had been scolded by Angie for not wearing a helmet and offered enough food to feed a small army.

* * *

 

Boxing Day went well for James, he thought.

Dinner went smoothly except for the brief moment of awkwardness when Jill Evan referred to James as ‘Lily’s new boyfriend’ over the phone to her friend Kate.

Luckily, Jill didn’t notice so they did not have to discuss the ambiguity surrounding James’ place in Lily’s life and vice versa.

It was only once they had retired to Lily’s bedroom and exchanged gifts they had gotten from the charity shop (a wind up clown toy for James and a small Bambi toy for Lily) that the subject surfaced once more.

They were squeezed onto Lily’s single bed, side by side. James was absent-mindedly stroking the cat he claimed to hate which was purring happily on his chest.

"Hey, Lily," he said.

"Yes, James?"

"Would you say we’re going out?"

"I suppose so."

"Cool."

Then, to James’ delight, Lily grabbed the hand he had been using to scratch behind Brutus’ ear and clasped it in her own.

"Would you rather be burnt alive or buried alive?" she asked thoughtfully, still holding his hand tightly.

"It depends which would kill me quicker."

 


	15. A Bag Full of Carrots

**Chapter Fifteen: A Bag Full of Carrots**

The usual laughter that rang throughout the Prewett house was slightly stunted that Christmas. Even the reappearance of Gideon, the brightest and loudest of them all had not managed to raise their spirits, the knowledge that were going to lose their farm hanging over their every happy moment.

The eldest Prewett child, Molly Weasley, had brought her ever growing family from the farm across the way. She had married herself off to her childhood sweetheart Arthur Weasley and had begun to pop out children as quickly as humanly possible. At the age of twenty seven she already had three sons.

Her newest son, Percy, had been passed around from grandparent to grandparent, uncle to uncle, but nobody had fallen quite so in love with the infant as Hestia Jones, his soon to be aunt.

Molly was quite happy to pass off her youngest child as it gave her the opportunity to restrain Bill and Charlie, her two eldest, from running circles around her all day. Not to mention she could direct slightly more of her attention towards her brothers. In fact, she enjoyed this so much that she made an extra effort to visit when Gideon was home.

“You look very skinny, Gid,” said Molly one evening just after Christmas. “Are you eating properly at uni?”

“I’m eating enough,” he replied, catching Fabian’s eye.

Fabian raised an eyebrow in response and the brothers shared a look. Their older sister had always been fanatical in terms of mothering them. Their actual mother was far less interested in such things.

“I think he looks fine,” said their mother in a tired voice, half asleep under a jumper she was knitting by the fire.

Her husband was completely asleep beside her.

“He doesn’t look healthy though,” Molly protested.

Hestia nodded in agreement, clutching Percy to her chest as she did so.

“Just make sure you’re eating your vegetables, Gid," said Fabian.

After this he let out a laugh which nobody quite understood.

That evening when Molly was leaving, she caught Hestia and whispered, “Make sure you pack some sandwiches in Gideon’s bag when he gets the train back to uni.”

Hestia had already been planning on it.

The morning Gideon was set to leave, Hestia snuck into his bedroom to stuff a couple of ham sandwiches in his bag. Upon unzipping it she found, not clothes, but three dozen carrots. The clothes were stuffed in a pile on the bed along with a couple of text books.

“Gideon!” she cried.

Within moments, Gideon Prewett was running up the stairs and into the bedroom.

“What’s wrong? Are you alright?” he stammered.

Silently, she held up the bag of carrots. Gideon caught a glimpse before falling onto the floor laughing. Just then the sound of rapid footsteps rang through the air and Fabian entered the room.

“Did he find the carrots?” asked Fabian.

“You did this? Why?” demanded Hestia.

Fabian began to laugh along with Gideon, leaving Hestia utterly confused.

“I don’t understand how this is funny.”

The boys just laughed harder.

It took roughly three minutes to remove the carrots and repack Gideon’s belongings. The whole ordeal stressed Hestia out so much that she had to go home and have a nap while Fabian drove Gideon to the station.

As the two finally said goodbye at the station, Gideon pulled Fabian in for a hug.

“Take care of mum and dad,” he muttered.

“Of course,” said Fabian. “Take care of yourself.”

They parted and, with a ruffle of his brother’s hair, Gideon said, “Don’t let Hestia take care of you too much. You do realise you’re marrying our sister by the way.”

“Nah, Hestia’s about a thousand times more insane than Molly.”

Gideon chuckled softly, before his face fell into a serious expression.

“I feel bad for leaving when everything’s in such a state.”

“Don’t be stupid,” said Fabian. “Go become a doctor so you can home and support your failure of a family.”

* * *

 

The first day back at school after Christmas, James knocked for Lily at half seven in the morning so they could walk up together. She opened the door in a panic; half-dressed and babbling about how she’d overslept.

“See, my mum usually wakes me up because I always sleep through my alarm but she’s gone to London with Petunia to meet Vernon’s family,” she said, rushing up the stairs with James just behind her.

Upon entering the room, Lily made to put on her tights first, causing James to have to continue to pretend like he hadn’t noticed that Lily was only wearing a bra on the top half of her body.

Lily continued casually, “Did you do that essay? I asked you yesterday but I forgot.”

“Yeah I did. How come you didn’t go to meet Vernon’s family?”

“Because I have to go to school and I hate him. Besides, someone’s got to stay here in case they let dad out of the hospital.”

“Is that likely?”

“No,” she said, picking the nearest t-shirt off of the floor and smelling it before making a face and discarding it on the floor once more.

James suspected this might take a while so he dropped his school bag with a thump and fell dramatically onto Lily’s bed. A smacking sound filled the air.

“You alright?” asked Lily, pulling her head through her cleanest t-shirt.

“I hit my hand against the wall.”

“Why?”

“It said something funny so I thought it deserved a high five,” he said dryly. “Why’d you think? It was an accident.”

“Well at least you didn’t break your sense of humour.”

“Never, my dear.”

She threw a dirty t-shirt at James, which hit him directly in the face.

“This is disgusting. Why don’t you put these in the wash?” he said, gesturing to the general mess of used clothing on Lily’s bedroom floor.

“I’ll do it later. Are you ready to go?”

“What would I need to do? Brush my teeth? This is your house. I arrived ready to go.”

“You’re very sarcastic in the mornings, has anyone ever told you that?”

He grinned toothily at her. She stuck her tongue out in response.

“Shall we go then?” he said.

“There’s something I want to do first," she replied.

“What’s that?”

Watching as she crouched on the floor, scavenging among her dirty clothes, James wondered what on earth she needed. A moment later, she had grabbed an odd sock, sniffed it, and nodded as though satisfied.

“What do you need a sock for?” he asked.

He received his answer as she jumped onto the bed beside him and abruptly forced the sock into his face.

“These are worse than the t-shirt,” he cried.

Lily pressed it further against his nostrils.

“Say you’re sorry," she demanded, laughing.

“For what?”

“For being a sarcastic arse.”

“Never! It’s who I am.”

He managed to wrestle the sock out of her hands and threw it aside.

“Now you’re gonna have to pay,” said Lily, putting James in a headlock and dragging him down with her as she lay backwards.

“This doesn’t really hurt,” he said. “You’re pretty much just hugging my neck.”

James had been dragged into lying against Lily’s right breast which she had one arm wrapped around his neck.

“I don’t want to injure you. You’re delicate,” she said.

“I’m a rock.”

“You’re a daisy. Now say you’re sorry or I’ll get the sock back.”

“This t-shirt smells almost as bad to be honest. Do you own anything clean?”

“I’ll bite you then.”

“Fine,” he sighed.

Released from her lacklustre headlock, James rested on one elbow so he could look down at her.

“I’m sorry for being such a sarcastic arse," he began. "You deserve much better. I shouldn’t have implied that you’re unhygienic. You’re beautiful and smell of flowers.”

“That was literally the most sarcastic apology I’ve ever heard,” she laughed, incredulous.

Before he could reply, she reached up and pulled him into a kiss.

When she withdrew she said, “Hey, we’re alone in the house.”

“Interesting point.”

“Do you wanna be late for History?”

“I really do,” said James.

The whole thing was a fumbling mess that lasted a total of seven minutes, including the thirty seconds it took for Lily to find a condom at the back of her bedside table drawer. James couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so insecure. It was probably after Lily had told him she’d shag a fish over him. He was hoping that wasn’t still the case after his performance.

It wasn’t as though he hadn’t done this before. He’d had sex a total of two times with a total of two girls.

The first time was absolutely humiliating. It’d taken about ten minutes for him to actually get inside the poor girl, and he came just a few moments later. The second time was slightly better because he was completely smashed so managed to keep it together a bit longer. He could have sworn the girl even let out a tiny moan of pleasure at one point.

But Lily was different because she was his girlfriend and this felt like a test to see if he’d ever be allowed to do it again. Not to mention the fact that she’d had a boyfriend before and was far more experienced.

What if Kenneth was better at sex than him? He’d probably have to off himself.

It began with him wondering if he should pull her tights down and stick his hand up her skirt. They’d done that before, but he’d never been all that great at it. At least now he knew not to just stick his fingers up her.

Lily could see how nervous he was, but wasn’t quite sure whether or not to say anything, sure that doing so would violate some sort of pride thing.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, “Is that alright?”

“It’s fine,” she said with a laugh she instantly regretted.

Laughing was probably not the appropriate thing to do when a bloke had his hand up your skirt.

He apologised too many times.

“Sorry, am I hurting you?”

“No, you’re fine. You’re on my hair though.”

“Sorry.”

He shifted.

“Still on my hair,” she said.

“Sorry.”

By the time it was all over James almost wished that sex with Lily had remained a fantasy. At least then he was getting off without disappointing anyone. Lily didn’t seem all that phased by the thing at all.

He rolled off of her, squeezed on her single bed between the wall and her half naked body.  She turned to lie on her side so they were face to face.

James laughed nervously and Lily mirrored him.

“That was fun,” she said.

He didn’t entirely believe her.

After placing one last chaste kiss on his lips, Lily muttered, “Come on, we’re already late.”

Except they weren’t really all that late. In fact the lesson wouldn’t be starting for another ten minutes or so. This was all James could think of as he and Lily dressed.

* * *

 

Kenneth had not been looking forward to going back to school. Stebbins and Jones had both dropped out over Christmas so his football team was two men down. Not to mention he’d heard plenty of rumours about his ex-girlfriend and James Potter.

He didn’t want to be bitter over his breakup, and he wasn’t upset with Lily for doing it, but he wished it had taken her a little longer to find a new boyfriend. Or even found a less impressive boyfriend. If she’d dumped him and immediately started seeing Severus Snape it would probably have been easier to live with.

Anyone but James Potter would have been better really.

This hit Kenneth hardest in history Monday morning when Lily and James both rushed in ten minutes late looking rather flushed.

James had two very obvious love bites on his neck and Kenneth was filled with an uncontrollable rush of jealousy. Although whether he was more jealous of James or Lily, he could not quite decipher in that moment.

Blinking away any unpleasant or confusing thoughts, Kenneth forced himself to concentrate on the Battle of Waterloo.

Yes, he thought bitterly, anyone but James Potter would have been better.

Not that he was watching them or anything, but Kenneth noted that James and Lily barely exchanged a single world the whole lesson. In fact, every time Lily tried to say something to James, he generally answered as shortly as possible before turning his attention back to history. If James was remaining distant from Lily for the sake of Kenneth’s pride he thought he might die of humiliation.

After the lesson, Kenneth made to leave the classroom as quickly as possible, trying not to notice James and Lily suddenly whispering to each other after a whole lesson of almost complete silence between the two. This was made exceptionally difficult by the fact that he was almost completely certain that they kept glancing in his direction as they whispered.

Just when Kenneth had convinced himself he was imagining it, Lily began to make her way over to him, giving a small glance over her shoulder at James who gave her an encouraging thumbs up.

It was difficult to believe they hadn’t been speaking about him in light of this.

“Hi,” said Lily, smiling though obviously nervous.

Kenneth blinked back at her, half terrified of where this conversation might go. What if she was going to let him down easily about James? He’d rather she pretend as though nothing was happening.

“Sorry to ambush you,” she continued. “I just wondered if you’d be interesting in coming to another meeting about saving the Prewett farm tomorrow.”

It was unexpected, but not the terrifying place Kenneth had worried this conversation might go.

* * *

 

Dorcas went straight to the pub after school on Monday. Bursting through the doors, she skipped over to the bar. There were only two people in there. An old man was falling asleep at a table in the corner and an unattractive twenty year old boy by the name of Tom was working on the bar.

“Where’s Alice?” asked Dorcas.

“She’s taking a break,” said Tom. “Do you have any ID?”

“I don’t want a drink. I just want to talk to Alice.”

“She’s in the back.”

“Thank you.”

Making her way around the corner, Dorcas pushed open the door that read ‘staff only’, receiving an eyeful of Alice Podmore snogging Frank Longbottom against a crate of wine.

“Oh, my God!” cried Dorcas, jumping back and letting the door swing closed once more.

A moment later Frank emerged, very red in the face.

“Hi, Cas," he greeted sheepishly. “You alright?”

“I’m good,” she said.

Alice burst out behind Frank.

“Hi, Alice,” said Dorcas. “I was just looking for you.”

“Yeah? Frank was just helping me find something.”

Dorcas tried to set her face in a way that would make it seem like she believed this. Frank looked incredibly pleased with himself, and his hair was all messed up at the back.

“Well, I came looking for you, Al, but someone needs to talk to Frank too,” she said.

“Why’s that?” asked Frank.

“Are you two free tomorrow?”

* * *

 

As Frank had started spending an increasing amount of time Alice Podmore, Benjy found himself spending an extortionate amount of time in front of the telly.

“Benjy, why don’t you go out?” said his mother, a cup of tea in one hand and a concerned expression on her face.

“It’s freezing outside,” he replied, not taking his eyes off of the screen.

“Why don’t you go to a friend’s house? Or you could invite someone over?”

Benjy scowled and turned to face his mother.

“You don’t like Frank coming over here,” he said. “You said that the Longbottom’s weren’t to be trusted.”

“Well, they’re not,” she snapped. “That Augusta is a terror.”

The Longbottoms and the Fenwicks had been at odds ever since the Longbottoms had opened up their corner shop, taking valuable customers away from the post office. Neither Benjy nor Frank gave a shit about this quasi-feud but tended to keep their friendship vaguely hidden from their parents to avoid any unnecessary drama.

 “Why don’t you invite one of your other friends over?” his mother asked.

That was when Benjamin Fenwick realised he only had one friend.

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door and a moment later Benjy’s mother reappeared in the living room.

“Benjy, there’s a girl here to see you,” she announced, looking very excited.

Benjy started back blankly, asking confusedly, “Really? Who?”

“She said her name’s Mary. She wants to know if you’re free tomorrow.”

* * *

 

Sirius was in charge of fetching Caradoc, largely because only he or Peter could be seen down Hangleton road without raising suspicion or unwanted attention and Peter had been very reluctant to return to the Dearborn house for fear of running into Alastor Moody. Sirius on the other hand, was very eager to meet this infamous terrifying bloke with only one eye.

Upon reaching the Dearborn house, Sirius thought to himself that if he was ever going to have a mansion of his own, he’d want it to look something like this.

Everything was overgrown and left to decay in a simultaneously unpretentious yet perfectly pretentious way. It was like something out of a gothic novel.

He knocked on the front door, a little excited to meet the bloke that lived in a house like this, a house that looked as if it was built to stand out in a street full of wonderfully kept houses.

Sirius waited five minutes, but nobody answered the door.

* * *

 

“Why can’t you do it?” pleaded Peter, waving the telephone at James.

The two were at Angie’s house, attempting to reach Marlene McKinnon.

“Because I’m not scared of phoning people,” said James.

“That’s exactly why you should do it.”

“You have to learn how to use the phone sometime.”

“I don’t think I do,” argued Peter. “I can’t see why I’ll need to. I’m not gonna be a secretary.”

“Fine,” sighed James, snatching the telephone and dialing the number he’d gotten from Lily.

* * *

 

The last port of call was the Prewett farm itself, which Remus had volunteered to visit.

He caught Fabian in the midst of a conversation with Hestia regarding Ringo Starr, which had started when Hestia casually said over a cup of tea, “It was nice seeing you in a better mood when Gideon was here.”

“I don’t think I’m usually in a bad mood,” he replied, confused.

“You’ve lost a bit of your spark though,” she said. “I mean, I reckon there was a brief moment just before Christmas when I was the funny one.”

Fabian stared at his fiancée with a blank expression, unmoving, for so long that the biscuit he was dunking in his tea completely dissolved.

“Don’t look at me like that,” snapped Hestia. “I can be funny sometimes.”

“Hest, I love you, but you have absolutely no sense of humour. I could be dead and you still wouldn’t be the funny one.”

“That’s actually very rude and not true at all.”

“Alright, tell a joke right now.”

“Fine,” she said, sinking into thought for a moment before continuing. “Okay, so you know Ringo Starr?”

“Of course I do. Who doesn’t?”

“Right. Good. This joke involves him so if you didn’t I’d have had to explain who he was. Now, what did Ringo’s wife say when someone stole her ring?”

“Where did my ring go?” replied Fabian in a tired voice.

“No. She said ‘where’d my ring go, Ringo?’ Oh wait. I might have told the joke wrong. I think it’s Ringo that goes missing, not her ring.”

“I feel like you’re just making my point about you not being funny.”

“Is Ringo still with his wife?” asked Hestia thoughtfully, ignoring Fabian’s comment.

“I don’t know.”

When Remus arrived, they were arguing over what Ringo’s wife was called.

“I don’t want to interrupt,” said Remus, standing in the doorway of the living room. “Your mum let me in.”

“Don’t worry about it,” replied Hestia, getting to her feet. “Would you like a cup of tea?”

* * *

 

Reverend Macdonald had been kind enough to allow another meeting to take place in his living room. He had even gone so far as to provide everyone with orange squash and custard creams.

Almost everyone invited has turned up but Caradoc had yet to be reached, and Marlene couldn’t miss work. The rest were there, sitting and standing in various places, waiting for someone to start the meeting.

“Let’s not pretend there’s any plan here,” voiced Mary, as everyone looked around for a leader. “There’s been basically no real organisation from the start. Let’s just throw some ideas out there and bloody pick one already.”

Fabian and Lily, original organisers of the group, tried their hardest to not appear offended.

“I still think we should have a Valentine’s disco,” said Dorcas.

Those who had not heard this idea before visibly cringed.

All except Frank who seemed enthusiastic until he heard Alice say, “It’s just a little tacky I think. I don’t know how many people will want to go.”

“Well, how about we have a fashion show?” suggested Dorcas.

Everyone groaned and expressed great dislike for this idea. James was the only one who remained silent.

“How about we start a punk band?” said Sirius.

“None of us has any talent,” pointed out Remus.

“I’m quite a good singer,” said Peter.

“Brilliant. We can all just clap our hands in the background while Peter belts out some Sex Pistols,” said Benjy. “Does anyone have any real suggestions? I mean, I don’t but someone must.”

“I’m honestly lost,” said Fabian. “I can’t think of anything that will raise enough money.”

“Well, we’ve still got the upcoming youth club,” Lily reminded them all brightly. “I know it won’t raise enough, but it’s a start. If we come up with lots of little ideas then maybe it’ll all build up.”

“Like tombolas and stuff?” said Peter.

“We could have an Easter Egg hunt,” offered Remus. “For the kids. Just charge them a pound to enter and set them loose on the green. I know Easter’s far away and all but it’s a thought isn’t it?”

“I like it,” said Hestia.

There were murmurs of agreement throughout and Remus sat back in his chair feeling rather proud of himself.

“What about a football match?” said Kenneth suddenly.

Everyone turned to look at him, most of them having forgotten he was there at all.

“What do you mean?” asked Lily.

“We could hold a tournament or a match or whatever and make money off of the bets,” explained Kenneth. “Plus we could sell tickets and food and all that rubbish.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s gambling,” said Mary. “I don’t think the church can sponsor a charity event that involved gambling.”

“Jesus has to be alright with gambling for charity,” reasoned Sirius. “Besides, I think it’s a good idea.”

“I don’t,” said Mary. “Those in favour of the football match, put your hands up.”

Lily, Sirius, Peter, Kenneth, Benjy, Dorcas, and Alice all raised their hands. Lily looked at James who had not raised his hand. In fact, his expression was one of someone lost so deep in thought that they were paying no attention to anything around them.

Lily poked him in the ribs, accidentally getting his bruise, and he gave a start.

“Are you okay?” she mouthed.

He nodded, but she did not believe him.

“I think that’s a majority,” said Fabian, referring to the football match idea, calling Lily’s attention back to the group at large.

“Really?” asked Kenneth, taken aback that his idea had been so popular.

“Okay, so how are we going to do this? How many teams are we going to have?” said Remus.

“Girls can play, right?” said Alice.

Lily turned back to James who was once again lost in thought, his eyes glazed over.

“James feels sick,” announced Lily quite suddenly, jumping to her feet. “Mary, can I take him to the loo so he can throw up?”

James broke free of his daze to stare at his girlfriend in utter confusion as she dragged him up the stairs and into the toilet.

* * *

 

“Why are you being so weird and quiet?” demanded Lily, seating herself on the edge of the bath.

“I’m just a bit tired,” replied James offhandedly.

“That sounds like bullshit to me. You’re only ever quiet when you’re upset about something. Not to mention you won’t stop pouting.”

“Sometimes I’m quiet and pouty when I’m feeling fine. I like to seem dark and mysterious.”

“No you like to seem important and loud. If you were perfectly happy then you’d be in there taking the piss out of Kenneth or talking about how you’re the saviour of all British farming of something.”

“I worry about what kind of person you think I am.”

Unfazed, Lily stared back at him, arms crossed in wait of a confession.

“Okay fine,” he sighed. “Be honest with me. Just how bad was it?”

“How bad was what?”

“The sex.”

Lily looked a little taken aback but shrugged it off.

“It was fine,” she said.

“It was really bad.”

"It wasn’t that bad. It wasn’t great, but it wasn’t that bad. It was just a bit awkward, but that’s fine. It’s gonna take a while to get the hang of it. Kenneth was absolutely awful at first. I mean, seriously terrible, but he got so much better,” said Lily enthusiastically.

The awkward silence she was met with as James stared back at her made Lily think that maybe bringing up her ex’s sexual prowess was the wrong thing to do.

“Was that helpful information or not?” she asked.

“Not really that helpful.”

“Noted. But seriously don’t worry. If I expected to get fantastic sex straight away I’d go out with someone like Mick Jagger.”

“Really? You reckon Mick Jagger’s good? My thought is that if a bloke’s that famous he doesn’t even have to try in bed and girls will still want to have sex with him.”

“I reckon he can’t help but be good. Have you seen him dance?”

“The bum and hip wiggle?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you want me to wiggle my bum when I dance?”

“Not even slightly.”

“Oh, come on. I reckon I’d be good. Sing something and I’ll try it.”

“Alright,” she said with a shrug. “What do you want me to sing?”

“Anything.”

James spun around so that Lily could get a clear view of his rear. Clapping to the beat in her mind, Lily began to sing Dancing Queen.

“That’s not very punk of you,” said James.

She could almost hear the smirk she knew he spread across his smug face.

“Punk’s too hard. I can’t do the angry voice. Now just let me sing.”

As he heard her pick up from the lyric she’d stopped on, James started to shake his bum. He was trying his best to do it in time to her clapping, which was slightly off beat, but he was well aware that his movements just came across as robotic.

Lily stopped singing, lost to uncontrollable laughter.

 “Excuse me, can you not laugh at my excellent dancing skills,” said James in mock anguish, pausing in his movements.

She just shook her head and continued to laugh.

“Seriously, look how great I am,” he cried, wiggling his behind once more while shuffling backwards, closer to her.

Lily just laughed harder. When James’ backwards movements brought him close enough, Lily she wrapped her arms around him, pulling him onto her lap and putting a stop to any further wiggling.

“Your dancing is even worse than your singing,” she said, leaning her head on his shoulder.

“And yet somehow I’ve managed to seduce you.”

 


	16. Ginger Lizard Babies

**Chapter Sixteen: Ginger Lizard Babies**

Lily’s mother and sister returned from London a little under a week after they had left. Lily, who had gotten very comfortable with living alone, was lounging in front of the telly, engrossed in Top of the Pops. She highly doubted that working at a car wash was as exciting as the song made it out to be, but it was still fun to envy how Legs and Co. looked as they danced to it.

Lily had just dropped the packet of crisps she was eating, jumped off the sofa, rolled up the legs of her pyjama bottoms, and begun to mimic the dancing on the screen before her, when she heard the front door open.

Before either her mother or her sister could enter the living room, Lily had dropped back onto the sofa and covered herself with a nearby blanket.

"Lily?" called her mother from the hall.

"I’m here," she replied.

"Come here. We have some news."

With a groan, Lily stood up once more and followed the sound of her mother’s voice into the kitchen.

"What’s going on? Is everyone alright?" asked Lily, seeing both her mum and sister sitting at the kitchen table.

It took just a moment for Lily’s mind to connect the satisfied smirk on Petunia’s face with the brand new gleaming engagement ring on her finger.

"Oh," stammered Lily. "Congratulations."

Lily was only barely happy for her sister.

Vernon Dursley was in no way worthy of Petunia, in her opinion.

The two had met when Petunia had gone to visit her friend Sheryl at Brunel University. She’d gotten confused on the underground and asked a nice respectable looking man in a suit which line she was supposed to take. This man was Vernon Dursley.

Lily wished that Petunia hadn’t decided to marry the first man with a nice job in London she had met, but Lily supposed that was Petunia all over. Besides, the two were a lot more suited than Lily would care to admit.

 The sisters had been very close when they were children but adolescence had revealed the deep running differences between them.

Petunia became uptight. She complained for the joy of it and spied on the neighbours.

Lily became self-assured. She listened to punk music and went out with boys who had more interest in football than office politics.

Lily supposed that people sometimes grew up in very different directions. Just look at Petunia. Just look at Severus.

A scrapbook discarded some months ago beneath her bed burned in the back of Lily’s mind.

* * *

 

The charity football tournament was to take place at the end of February, giving the newly formed football planning committee a good month and a half to get everything together.

Step one was to actually form the football teams. They had decided that four teams of seven would make for an interesting enough tournament. The only trouble was getting twenty-eight people to want to participate.

So far there were two teams, one led by Kenneth, the other by James. James had three players: himself, Peter, and Benjy. Kenneth had himself and Alice. A total of five players was not fantastic, but James and Kenneth had divided the task of creating the teams between them and were determined to make it happen.

"It’ll be fine. Loads of people will wanna be involved," said Kenneth brightly as he and James discussed the lack of players after History one day. "I haven’t even asked my mates yet."

The heat rose in Kenneth’s cheeks as James nodded, running a hand through his hair thoughtfully. For a brief moment he thought James might stick around for a bit, extend their conversation beyond talk of football. But then there was a mutter of going to find Sirius and Kenneth was standing alone in the corridor trying to ignore the pangs in his chest, pretending that they were nothing like the ones he had felt for his ex-girlfriend.

* * *

 

Nobody wanted to be the first to admit that Remus’ moustache was starting to look rather good. That is, not terrible. It had become a lot fuller and made him look at least a year older.

Sirius was seething with jealousy which he hid beneath consistent jokes about said offending moustache. Only in front of James did he allow his true feelings to show.

That lunchtime, as he sat on the closed toilet seat of the cubicle he and James had crammed themselves into, watching James squat and write an advertisement for joining the football tournament on the wall, Sirius voiced his facial hair related concerns.

 "I just don’t understand how it could’ve gone from hideous to amazing," complained Sirius.

"Well, moustaches do grow," said James, more engrossed in his graffiti than in Remus’ facial hair. "It’s not exactly outside the realms of possibility that his just got fuller with time."

"I wish I’d thought of it first," said Sirius bitterly. "I’d look so good with a beard."

"Why don’t you grow a beard then?"

"Because then I’m copying him."

"Moustaches and beards are two different things," reasoned James.

"Well, I can’t grow a beard without a moustache. I’d look like a twat."

With a sigh, James stood up, stretching out and saying, "Okay, how’s this, if I make it so you can grow a beard, will you do me a favour?"

"Does it involve football?"

"It just might."

"Would I have to play it?"

"Oh, very good," cried James with false congratulations. "You’re quite the detective."

* * *

 

James met with Remus, Peter, and Sirius outside the Longbottoms’ corner shop after school. Once they had purchased four cans of coke and a couple of bags of sweets, they made their way to the green and plopped themselves down on the grass.

"So," said James, attempting to open his coke can one-handed and failing. "I notice you’re keeping the moustache."

Remus frowned at James.

"I am," he answered. "Why?"

"Well, it’s just got me thinking," continued James, sheepishly using both hands to open his coke. "We’ve been making fun of that moustache for a while now."

"And for good reason," added Sirius pointedly.

James shot him a look before pressing on, "Anyway, I reckon it’s not really fair of us to be taking the mick out of you when we haven’t even proven our superior facial hair growing abilities."

"I haven’t taken the mick out of Remus’ moustache," said Peter. "I don’t understand why everyone here is so obsessed with facial hair to be honest."

"That’s because you can’t grow any," teased Sirius.

"The point is," said James loudly, calling attention back to himself. "I reckon we should all stop shaving just so we can show Remus here how it’s done."

Remus had not stopped frowning since the beginning of the conversation.

"I can grow facial hair," protested Peter.

"Prove it," said James.

"I will."

Suddenly, Remus began to laugh. All heads turned to him.

"You’re all ridiculous," he said. "You think you can grow facial hair. Go ahead. Good luck with that."

Then, without fumbling, Remus opened his can of coke with just his left hand and took a pointed swig.

* * *

 

It wasn’t long before offers started pouring in for the football tournament. By the following Wednesday almost two thirds of the positions were taken and there were now a total of four team captains: James, Kenneth, Colin Macdonald, and Stebbins (who only agreed to play under the circumstances that he could lead a team).

James’ team was now full. The players were himself, Benjy, Peter, Sirius, two girls from the year above, and a boy from the year below.

Their first practice was that Friday and James had a very peculiar problem. Given that his football had been unceremoniously massacred by Sirius, his team was without a ball to play with.

It was then he remembered a stray football he had seen some months ago in the guttering of a church.

He gathered Peter, Remus, and Sirius in the graveyard that afternoon.

"Gentleman," said James. "We are here today to get that ball from the guttering."

He pointed to the church roof behind him.

"Why?" asked Remus.

"I second that question," said Sirius, a light flecking of patchy stubble on his jaw.

"Because you murdered my old football," said James. "The only problem is I can’t figure out how to get up there."

No hair was visible on the lower half of his face.

Peter rubbed his beard thoughtfully. The other three boys refused to comment on the impressive length Peter’s facial hair had grown to and they did not meet his eye as he continued to stroke his chin.

"Maybe we could all stand on top of each other?" he offered.

"The issue with that, Pete," said Sirius dryly. "Is that we’re not a fucking circus act."

"I’m sure my dad’s got a ladder. It’d take me about two minutes to grab it," said Remus.

"Would it be tall enough?" questioned Peter.

"There must be steps somewhere up to the bell tower. Surely we can get on the roof from there," said James.

"And then what? We can’t exactly slide down to the gutter can we?" objected Remus.

Sirius shrugged and said, "Well, we could try."

"Maybe we should get the ladder," said Peter.

James privately agreed. He and Peter followed Remus over the road to his house to look for a ladder. Sirius stayed behind, determined to get the ball down by himself.

When they returned with the ladder, Sirius was throwing rocks at the football.

"What in God’s name are you doing?" said Remus, trying to catch his breath as he finally let go of the ladder.

James was attempting to line the ladder up with the football when one of Sirius’ rocks fell from the air onto his right shoulder.

"Sirius, if one of those bloody rocks scars my pretty head I will murder your motorbike," warned James.

Sirius threw one last rock, dislodging the ball as he did so, causing it to roll from the guttering and smack James right on the head. It then fell to the floor with a sad splat.

"There’s almost no air left in it," cried Peter.

James sighed and let the ladder fall to the ground.

"I’ve had enough," he said.

"I suppose we should take the ladder back," said Remus. "Sirius, give us a hand. My chest is on fire."

Sirius had made to lift the ladder before Remus could take a puff of his asthma pump. As the four boys left the graveyard, James with the deflated ball under his arm, a solemn air hung over them.

"You know, I have a football at home," said Peter.

James let the ball fell from under his arm. It rolled away into the bushes. Peter didn’t have to look to know James was grinding his teeth in frustration.

* * *

 

"I think I need a signature colour," voiced Dorcas.

"Why?" asked Mary.

Dorcas was rummaging through the odd bottles of nail varnish Lily had left lying around her dressing table. Mary and Lily were watching from Lily’s bed.

"How about black?" suggested Lily.

"You don’t own any black," whined Dorcas.

"Exactly. Get out of my stuff."

Mary snorted and Lily laughed loudly at her own joke.

Dorcas and Mary were her closest friends, she thought, and she couldn’t imagine having more fun with any other people in the world. Except that one boy.

She just couldn’t bring herself to tell Dorcas and Mary about the scrapbook. Fully aware that it was completely insane of her to feel this way, Lily knew the only person she could tell was James.

* * *

 

That Friday Kenneth set out to find James and share some very good news. It took him almost half of lunch to locate the boy until finally he heard James’ name called out from a Maths classroom.

"James, I can’t help but notice you don’t have any facial hair anywhere," said Remus. "It’s almost like you can’t grow any."

Poking his head round the door, Kenneth saw James sigh dramatically. He was engaged in what looked like a four-way game of chess, with Sirius and Remus on one team, and James and Peter on the other.

"Actually," defended James, "My girlfriend prefers me clean shaven. Remind me of your girlfriend’s opinions on facial hair. Oh, that’s right. I’m the only one with a girlfriend."

Peter and Remus shared sceptical looks. Sirius was too busy staring at the door to join in.

"Pritchard?" he called out. "You gonna come in or not?"

Suppressing any emotions the last thirty seconds might have aroused in him, Kenneth Pritchard entered the room.

"Kenneth, what are you doing here?" asked James jovially.

Kenneth’s mouth went very dry, causing him to swallow hard. He thought that everyone must have noticed his swallowing and this made his mouth go drier still.

"Hi," croaked Kenneth. Clearing his throat, he tried again, "I just wanted you to know that all four teams are officially full."

"Brilliant," cried James, rubbing his hands together. Kenneth lingered in the doorway as James turned to Remus and said, "That means you can start collecting bets."

"I’m looking forward to it," said Remus.

"I think I should join you," voiced Sirius.

"You have to practice with the team," said James. "You’re playing. Remember?"

"I’m far more intimidating than him. I’d get us more money," said Sirius.

"Yeah, you’re half-beard is terrifying," jibed Peter, absent-mindedly stroking his own, now very full, beard.

Sirius threw a pawn at Peter and nobody noticed as Kenneth slipped out of the room.

* * *

 

Having received a rather cryptic invitation to Lily’s house, involving almost no eye contact and lots of blushing, James knocked on the Evans’ front door that afternoon. After being showed upstairs by her uptight sister he found his girlfriend cross-legged on her bed. She was flicking through a copy of Jackie. When the door closed behind him, her head snapped up.

"Hi," said Lily.

"Hello," replied James awkwardly.

The air was tense and he was not entirely sure why. A sinking feeling in his stomach warned him that this was going to end badly.

He took a seat on the bed, leaning against the wall. She shifted herself so that she was sitting beside him.

"Don’t look so worried," insisted Lily.

"Only if you stop being weird."

She opened her mouth to retort, but closed it before she said anything. With a nod she conceded that he was right.

"Fair enough," she said. Then, taking a deep breath, she continued. "Okay there’s this thing I have to show you, but before I do you have to promise me something."

"Not to laugh at you?" guessed James, visibly relaxing. "Lily, you know I can’t promise that. If it’s embarrassing I’m going to laugh at you. Is it a rash?"

"Why would I be showing you a rash?"

"You might be worried about your health. I’d be if I had a rash."

"And you’d show it to me?"

"Of course."

"James, there’s something you should know," said Lily earnestly. "I’m not actually a doctor."

James covered Lily’s whole face with his hand and smushed it.

"You’re quite sarcastic, you know?" he said, releasing her.

"No one’s ever told me," she replied, taking his nose between her thumb and forefinger and squeezing. "Ergh, I think I got snot on me."

"Don’t squeeze my nose then, you twit."

Lily wiped her hand on James’ shoulder before climbing onto the floor and rummaging under the bed.

"What are you looking for?" asked James.

"The thing," she called up. "The whole reason we had the rash conversation. Now promise you won’t laugh."

"I told you I can’t."

Lily reemerged, her face covered by a tangle of red hair as she clutched an old scrapbook.

"You look gorgeous," said James dryly. "What’s in the book?"

"Pictures," she replied, "Of some places."

"Okay. Why do you have a secret book filled with pictures of places? Are they your murder spots?"

"Why do you think everything’s a murder spot? I’ve never heard of any murderer having a specific place to kill people. Surely it’d be hard to lure the victims there. What if they never show up? Can the murderer only kill in that one spot? If not then what’s the point in having a spot?"

"I’m hearing a lot of hurtful criticisms of murder spots and not a lot of explaining what this whole scrapbook thing is about."

Lily squeezed her eyes shut in an attempt to block out the humiliation she was about to face.

"Here you go," she said, holding the book out.

She opened her eyes once more when she felt him lift the book from hands, watching tentatively as he flicked through it. What he saw was picture after picture of European landmarks, names spelled out beautifully, decorated with glitter. The whole thing was a visual treat.

"Did you make this?" asked James after a moment, sounding a little impressed.

"Severus helped me," she admitted.

James nodded, turning another page. Even though he was trying to seem nonchalant about Severus having helped make it, Lily thought that James looked as though he would rather be washing his hands clean of the book right now rather than continuing to pore over it.

"It’s a travel book?" he guessed.

"Yeah. I suppose," she said, sitting down beside him once more.

"And this is all the stuff you wanna do?"

"This is all the stuff I wanted to do when I was younger."

James looked up at her and frowned. The book was open at a detailed drawing of the Eiffel Tower. The proportions were all wrong and the shading was off, but Lily had obviously put a great deal of work into it.

"You don’t want to do it anymore?" he asked.

"I don’t know. A part of me does. But then this is mostly a childhood dream I let go way too far."

"How so?"

With a groan, Lily lifted James’ arm so she could lie on his chest and let it flop down over her. The Eiffel Tower drawing obscured most of her vision.

"God, I’m a terrible artist," she breathed before going on to explain, "So basically, when we were younger, me and Severus bonded over the fact that we both wanted to get the hell out of Sowsworth."

"Hang on a minute," cried James. "When I first met you I told you I was counting down the days until I could leave and you jumped down my throat. You went on and on about locally baked bread, making this place out to be bloody Shangri-La or something."

Lily squeezed her eyes shut once more.

"I know," she said. "I was sort of coming to terms with the fact that I’m probably never gonna get to leave this place. At least not any time soon. Besides you were being a complete arse so I’m not exactly sorry."

Opening her eyes, she continued to explain, "So we started making this scrapbook a few years ago and filled it with pictures from magazines and stuff. It was a lot of fun at first but then we started making plans. We were always gonna start travelling next summer. I don’t know how we thought we were gonna manage it. Neither of us have any money."

James drew Lily closer to his chest.

She sighed before pressing on, "It just sounded so lovely. But you can excuse that kind of thinking when you’re a child. It was only a few months ago that I tried to convince Severus to come away with me this summer. I don’t know what I was thinking. I was just trying to make it seem like this travelling stuff actually had a chance of happening. Besides, this was when the doctors were talking about getting my dad home sometime next year and I wanted to get my plans out of the way so I’d be happy to stay here and look after him."

Lily blinked back tears as she linked her fingers with James’. 

"Anyway," she said dismissively. "The doctors don’t say that anymore. So who knows what I’ll end up doing. I just feel like such an idiot for keeping up this dream for so bloody long."

 James planted a firm kiss on the top of her head and whispered, "Do you want me to tell you an embarrassing secret?"

"Always," replied Lily, sitting upright.

James took a deep breath, clasped both of Lily’s hands in his own, and looked her straight in the eye.

"Lily Evans," he began, his tone as serious as if he were reading a eulogy. "I, James Potter, am incapable of growing a beard."

Lily made a dissatisfied face.

"I already knew that," she complained.

"How?"

"I’ve seen you naked. You have no hair anywhere. You’re like a lizard"

James’ eyes widened and he said, "Imagine what our kids would look like. We’d have little ginger lizard babies"

Her eyes mirroring James’, Lily shuddered.

"Do you want to know something even scarier?" she said in a quiet and solemn voice. "Petunia’s gonna have Vernon Dursely’s babies. Imagine what she’ll give birth to. It’ll be one of those things where you have to pretend the baby’s cute because it’s a baby but everyone, even the mum, knows you’re lying."

"Lily Evans," said James, shock in his voice. "You’re a little bit evil. All babies are cute."

"That’s good. Practice that for when you meet my niece or nephew."

"She’s really gonna marry this bloke? The one you hate?"

"I’m afraid so."

Lily fell backwards on the bed and James rested his head on her chest, allowing her to thread her fingers through his hair absent-mindedly.

"Do I have to go to the wedding?" he asked.

"Absolutely."

"Do I still have to go if I break up with you?"

"No. That would probably just be awkward."

"Well it’s nice to know I’ve got an out. I’ll think it over," he said. "By the way, if anyone asks, you hate facial hair."

They lay there contentedly for a few moments until Lily suddenly cried out, "Hang on a minute. If our babies inherit your hairlessness how can they be ginger?"

"Well, I’ve got hair on my head," replied James indignantly.

* * *

 

An hour or so later, James arrived back at Angie’s house, his belly rumbling and ready for dinner.

"James, is that you?" cried Angie.

It sounded as though she was in the living room.

"No, Ange, it’s a robber with a key," replied James.

He smiled to himself as he imagined her tutting over a cup of tea. However, upon entering the living room, he noticed the expression on his aunt’s face and saw here wasn’t a drop of tea in sight. The telly was off.

"Is everything okay?" he asked.

"Come here," replied Angie, patting the spot on the sofa beside her.

James sank down, taking the seat, feeling his insides contort with anxiety.

"I’ve just had a phone call from your father," she began. "He says that they’re moving back."

"To England?"

Angie nodded.

"That’s great," cried James.

But the look on Angie’s face told him it was anything but great.

"James," she said softly, her voice cracking as she reached forward to squeeze one of his hands. "Your mother’s very sick."

His face felt numb.

As Angie continued to tell the story of how James’ mother had kept her cancer a secret from him for almost a year now, all James could think of was how his face no longer felt like his face and how he couldn’t quite remember how to breathe.

 


	17. Avoidance and Jaffa Cakes

**Chapter Seventeen: Avoidance and Jaffa Cakes**

Lily had not heard from James since Friday. On Sunday she’d popped round for a visit, but Angie had informed her that James wasn’t in at the moment. Lily could have sworn there was a shadow of a teenage boy vaguely visible in the window of James’ bedroom.

Upon asking what time James would be back Angie had replied, "Oh, you know James," before muttering something about checking on the dinner and leaving Lily alone on the doorstep.

Then in History, on Monday morning, James took his seat beside Lily and greeted her with a ruffle of her hair.

"Hello?" she said, half amused, half confused.

"Morning," replied James. "Your hair is far too flat."

"Your hair isn’t flat enough."

James scoffed and pulled Lily’s notebook in front of him so he could rip a piece of paper out, having forgotten to bring his own.

"Do you have a spare pen as well?" he asked, not quite meeting her eye.

She handed him the one she had been using and retrieved another one from her bag for herself.

"Cheers," said James.

He spent the whole lesson doodling pictures of fruit. Lily had to wonder why James was taking more interest in what was either a very bad drawing of an apple or a rather good drawing of a pear than her, but she didn’t get the opportunity to ask him.

 Once the lesson had finished, James handed Lily back her pen, saying, "Thanks ever so much, dear," with a grin and a wink.

Lily watched James walk out of the classroom as she clutched the pen, her mouth open slightly.

* * *

 

Come lunchtime, Lily began franticly searching for Dorcas. She found her in the common room, pretending to read an economics textbook while actually eavesdropping on the conversation Dave McKinnon was having with Rebecca Montgomery.

"Cas," whispered Lily.

Dorcas dropped the textbook and let out a sigh of relief.

"Thank goodness," cried Dorcas. "I’ve been sitting here alone for an hour. This textbook is the most boring thing in existence. I was trying to entertain myself with Dave and Rebecca’s conversation. Did you know that they’re the dullest couple in the whole school?’"

Lily could have sworn she saw Rebecca shoot Dorcas a look, but thought that even if she had pointed this out to Dorcas, she wouldn’t have cared. Besides, she had more important things to discuss with her friend.

"Cas, I need to talk to you about something. Can we go somewhere private?" asked Lily, certain that Dorcas was not the only eavesdropper in the room.

Noticing the urgent expression on Lily face, Dorcas replied, "Of course."

The ground was frosty outside. It was the time of year when people only ventured outside for a cigarette. As this was the one place Lily felt was private enough for their discussion, this is where she dragged Dorcas.

The two girls huddled under the willow tree, wrapping their coats as tightly around them as possible, moving from foot to foot to sustain the feeling in their toes.

"Okay, can you tell me what’s wrong before my nipples freeze off?" said Dorcas, her teeth chattering.

"There’s something wrong with James."

"There’s a lot of things wrong with James. His shoes for one."

"No, that’s not what I mean," interrupted Lily before Dorcas could list anything else. "He’s being weird. Weirder than usual anyway. I couldn’t get ahold of him all weekend and then he barely spoke to me all the way through history. It was like I was just a stranger he had to sit next to."

"Shit," exclaimed Dorcas. "Do you think he’s going to break up with you?"

Lily’s eyes widened.

"No," she said. "Do you think he is?"

Dorcas took a little too long to reply, "No, of course not."

"Should I talk to him about it?"

"Good idea. James might need a bit of a push. He’s probably nervous and that’s why he’s been avoiding you. Dumping someone is pretty scary. "

Lily stopped moving from foot to foot, stilled by her concern. What could she have done wrong? Unless James had been completely repulsed by her childish scrapbook. Not to mention the fact that she’d compared his appearance to that of a lizard. He’d mentioned breaking up as a joke, but maybe he’d been using humour to mask his real feelings. It wasn’t as if that was something he’d never done before. Lily then remembered she was cold and started moving her feet again.

"I really hope he doesn’t break up with you, Lily," said Dorcas seriously. "Since you two got together, it’s the happiest I’ve ever seen you."

With a small smile, Lily pulled Dorcas in for a hug.

Her head resting on Lily’s shoulder, Dorcas added, "But I’m not going to pretend I wouldn’t be a bit glad to have you around more. So I suppose a break up wouldn’t be completely awful."

"You’re a really weird friend," said Lily.

* * *

 

That evening, as Lily was clutching the Bambi toy James had gotten her for Christmas while listening to Bye Bye Baby and hating herself a little bit for doing so, she received an unexpected visitor.

Sirius Black had never been in her house before so she was a little bit surprised to see him let himself into her room.

She jumped as the door opened, letting out a yelp dropping the Bambi toy on the floor.

"Don’t do that," she breathed, clutching her chest.

"Don’t listen to the Four Seasons," said Sirius.

Wrinkling his nose at Lily’s music choice, he took a seat on the end of her bed. Lily stared back at him from the other end.

"Can I help you?" she asked.

"I’m here to talk to you about something important."

"Important enough to barge into my room?"

"Yeah, this is about James."

Lily sat up a little straighter, noticing that Sirius was still wearing his boots, having stomped mud into her carpet. She also found herself not particularly caring.

"Do you know what’s wrong with him?" she asked.

"No, I thought you would."

"I don’t have a clue. Dorcas says he’s gonna break up with me."

Sirius let out a choke of laughter.

"What?" said Lily.

"Trust me when I say that this is the most wrong Dorcas has ever been, which is saying something.  James isn’t going to ditch you."

"Well, why’s he being so bloody weird then?"

"God knows. Peter and Remus haven’t noticed, but I’m glad you have," said Sirius.

Lily thought that this must be the longest conversation she’d ever had with Sirius. It was surprisingly comfortable.

"I’m worried about him," he said, looking down at his hands and twisting his fingers.

"Me too. What should we do?" she said.

"I haven’t got a clue. I asked Angie but she just told me to keep my nose out of other people’s business."

"I’d say she has a point, but,"

"It’s James," he finished for her.

"Yeah," she breathed. "It’s James. We can’t just leave him to sort whatever this is out by himself."

Sirius took his eyes off of his hands and gave Lily a sincere smile.

"What?" she asked.

"Nothing. I’m just thinking about how you’re quite alright, Evans."

Frowning, not sure whether to take his comment as a compliment or not, Lily replied, "Cheers. I think."

* * *

 

Lily was unsure how to approach James the next day, concerned that she might come across as nosy or smothering.

However, she was saved the trouble of approaching him herself.

As Lily left her house the next morning, someone called out her name. Turning, she saw James jogging across the road, making him way over to her.

"Wait for me. I’ll walk with you," said James.

She tried not to grin.

Upon reaching Lily’s side, James held out his hand for her to take and started their walk to school.

"So what do you want for your birthday?" asked James. "Other than my riveting company."

"I have to have your company?" whined Lily.

"Excuse me, but I can’t think of a better person to spend your birthday with."

"A Jaffa Cake?" she suggested.

James let out a laugh that wasn’t quite his and Lily’s heart sank. He didn’t even bother to point out that a Jaffa Cake was not a person.

* * *

 

Over the next week James’ interactions with Lily were limited to talking about her upcoming birthday, faking laughter, or remaining silent while she attempted conversation. Sometimes she wouldn’t see him for a whole day.

In fact, by the twenty-ninth of January, the day before Lily’s all-important birthday, James had missed twice as many days of school as Remus.

During this time, Sirius and Lily had spoken alone together a total of seven times. The last of these times happened to fall on the evening of the twenty-ninth and took place in Lily’s kitchen where Sirius was helping her peel potatoes.

It wasn’t as if their conversations ever reached a useful conclusion on how exactly they could help James with whatever his problem was, but it was comforting to know that someone else cared as much as they did individually.

"We had football practice earlier," said Sirius. "James said maybe five words during the whole thing. At one point he kicked the ball so hard that it completely missed the goal and hit Mrs. Ludlow’s window. The glass didn’t break, but I swear it wasn’t far off."

"What’d he do after that?" asked Lily, throwing the peeled potatoes into a pot on the stove while Sirius disposed of the waste in the bin.

"Well, here’s the funny thing. He just laughed it off. But not his normal laugh, the weird one he’s been doing recently."

"The manic one or the weird high pitched one?"

"Manic."

Lily let out a deep sigh as she turned the hob on.

Upon entering the kitchen, Jill Evans failed to notice the mood of the room and joyfully exclaimed, "How lucky am I to have such a helpful daughter?"

Lily and Sirius both whipped around, slightly startled at the interruption.

"And you too of course, Sirius," added Jill.

"I’m happy to help, Mrs. Evans," said Sirius politely, flashing a charming grin. "It’s the least I could do since you’ve let me eat here so often over the past few weeks."

Clutching her chest, Jilly turned to her daughter and said, "This one’s a keeper," before leaving the two teenagers to continue their potato-boiling.

"She thinks we’re a couple, doesn’t she?" asked Sirius.

"Yeah," replied Lily solemnly. "And she likes you a lot better than James."

Aware that this was not something he should find funny, Sirius covered his mouth with his hand in an attempt to suppress the oncoming bark of laughter. He then very quickly succumbed and was bent over laughing in a matter of moments.

"It’s not funny!" cried Lily, the corners of her own mouth twitching a little.

"I’m sorry, but it’s really funny. I can’t wait to hold this over James. I’ll save it for when he’s feeling better."

Lily snorted with laughter then immediately felt guilty and forced herself to concentrate on the potatoes rather than the humour of the situation.

* * *

 

Given the fact that Lily’s birthday fell on a Sunday, she was rather hoping to skip church and have a nice lie in. Unfortunately, Dorcas did not appreciate this desire and so she, with Mary in reluctant tow, burst into Lily’s room at seven in the morning.

"Rise and shine you seventeen year-old!" cried Dorcas, jumping on the bed, not noticing that she was kneeing Lily in the stomach in the process of doing so.

Lily made a mental note to get a lock for her door.

"Happy Birthday," said Mary cheerfully, sitting on the very edge of the very end of the bed, making sure not to injure the birthday girl.

"We brought you a present," announced Dorcas, rolling off of Lily and climbing under the duvet beside her.

"Couldn’t it have waited until noon?" asked Lily sleepily as she wiped away the crust of drool from around her mouth.

"I told you she’d be annoyed," said Mary.

"Do you want to open your present now?" said Dorcas, ignoring both Lily and Mary.

Sitting up and feeling her eyelids threaten to shut once more, Lily yawned, "Go for it."

Mary picked up the plastic back by her feet and pulled out what looked to Lily like a brown blob. After rubbing her eyes she realised it was her present, wrapped in brown paper.

Dorcas bit her lip in excitement as she watched Mary hand over the gift.

"Open it then," demanded Dorcas.

"What did you think I was gonna do with?" asked Lily, bewildered. "Stuff it up my top and give James a heart attack?"

"Why would that give James a heart attack?" said Dorcas.

"Pregnancy," explained Mary.

Just to irritate Dorcas, Lily opened the present as slowly as possible until she got bored and decided to rip into it.

Inside was a dress made of denim, decorated with yellow flowers across the chest. Lily thought it was the most beautiful item of clothing she had ever owned.

"This is amazing," she breathed.

"Do you like it? My mum got it from Bath," said Dorcas.

"I love it. This was almost worth being woken up for."

"Do you know what else is exciting?" said Mary. The other two girls looked up from the dress. "You’re officially young and sweet only seventeen."

Dorcas nodded in agreement and added, "It’s true. Now you can dance and you can jive."

"Having the time of my life?" asked Lily.

Mary clapped her hands together and laughed.

"Oh, give her the card," Dorcas reminded Mary.

"You got me a card?" asked Lily. "But we all agreed that cards are pointless."

"It’s not from us," said Mary, handing over the envelope she had pulled from the plastic bag.

Lily opened it with a confused frown only to discover it was from Polly and Janine.

"This is weird," said Lily.

"We know," agreed Dorcas. "But they wanted us to give it to you."

* * *

 

After Church, Mary invited Lily back to hers to have tea and cakes, an invitation which Lily happily accepted. Dorcas was keen to come along as well.

"Besides," said Dorcas as they walked the short distance from the church to the vicarage. "I’m very pretty today so I’d like Colin to see me. Why wasn’t he at church today?"

"I thought you were done with Colin," complained Mary.

"I am. I just want him to see what he’s missing."

"He’s got the flu," said Mary. "Do you dress up nicely for church just to impress Colin?"

Dorcas shrugged her question off.

A moment later Dorcas stopped in her tracks and said, "Actually, I’m looking too good for Colin today. Maybe I should go and visit Caradoc."

"Under what pretense?" asked Lily.

"I don’t know. I’ll fake an injury."

"And a rich boy whose main job is trying to sell a house is logically going to be the first person to go to?" said Lily.

Dorcas furrowed her brow and pouted, but neither Mary nor Lily was persuaded to agree to any of her ridiculous plans for visiting Caradoc.

"Besides," pointed out Mary in an attempt to get her to stop sulking. "I’ve heard that the Dearborn’s have gone to America for a few months. I think they’re skiing or something."

"Where did you hear that?" said Lily.

"My dad hears everything," explained Mary.

* * *

 

Based on the fact that Mary and Dorcas were quite keen to keep Lily busy that day, and away from James, Lily assumed that they knew whatever it was that James was planning. She became certain of this when, at six o’clock they dragged her back to her own house and told her she better doll herself up and put on something nice.

Once Lily was dressed in her brand new denim dress, she let Dorcas do her hair and Mary put on ABBA for them to dance to.

"Okay," said Mary at around quarter to seven. "Time to blindfold you, Lily."

"I don’t remembering agreeing to that," protested Lily.

But Dorcas was already rummaging through Lily’s sock drawer for a pair of tights she could wrap around Lily’s head.

* * *

 

Lily didn’t care particularly that she was being dragged outside and across the village with a pair of tights covering her eyes, but she was a little bothered by the fact they hadn’t allowed her to grab her coat. Her one source of warmth was the thin cardigan she wore.

"This feels like the way to church. Why are we going to church?" said Lily.

"We’re not going to church," dismissed Mary, who was holding onto Lily’s right hand. Dorcas was pulling on the other. "Your sense of direction is awful."

"It’s almost as if two lunatics have blindfolded me."

* * *

 

Lily had felt grass beneath her feet, accidentally tripped over an abandoned water bottle, and been pushed through a doorway before the blindfold was finally removed.

Before she realised she was in Angie Potter’s kitchen, Lily found herself surrounded by people.

"Surprise!" they cried.

Lily pulled her best fake-surprised face which nobody quite bought but they said nothing about it.

The kitchen was full of her friends. The guests included, but were not limited to, Benjy, Frank, Alice, Fabian, Hestia, and even Kenneth.

"Happy Birthday," said James from behind her.

Turning around, Lily wrapped her arms around him and gave him a quick kiss followed by a hug.

Upon releasing him she addressed the group as a whole, "Thank you so much."

"It was my idea," called Sirius.

James kicked him in the shin.

* * *

 

The party was incredibly pleasant. Everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves and Mary had even provided sausage rolls.

Still, there was the piercing sound of James’ fake laughter every so often that stopped Lily from fully enjoying herself. Every time it happened Sirius caught her eye and they shared a look. For a second, she was certain she saw Remus glance her way and nod. Perhaps he had noticed as well? Peter either hadn’t picked up on anything or was very good at pretending he hadn’t.

At around half eleven Angie sent everyone home. Lily went to leave with them, but James stopped her.

"Hey, I still haven’t given you your presents," he said. "And I also haven’t told you that I quite like that dress."

"Doesn’t Angie want me to go?" asked Lily.

The rest of the group was already out of the door, making their way across the green, and the cold from outside was giving Lily goosebumps.

"You can stay if you like, dear," said Angie, only just visible from the hallway, holding a pile of empty plates.

"Are you sure?" said Lily, glancing at James for confirmation.

"I asked your mum and she said it was fine. So long as you two don’t share a bed," Angie told them. James shut the door, locking out the cold wind. "Obviously you two won’t be sleeping together. I told her my house wasn’t a brothel."

Lily went red in the face but James just let out a pretend laugh.

"James, go fetch her some of your pyjamas."

* * *

 

Angie set up a bed for Lily on the sofa. James had protested that Lily should have his bed, but Angie had pointed out that she couldn’t remember the last time he’d changed his sheets so it would not be a kindness to make her sleep in them.

When Lily was settled, Angie walked James up the stairs to make sure he didn’t linger.

Lily waited until she heard Angie’s bedroom door close before climbing out of her makeshift bed, pulling on her cardigan for warmth, and creeping up the stairs as quietly as possible. She only needed to tap on the door before James opened it and beckoned her inside. He’d been waiting for her.

"Those pyjamas look weird on you," he said, studying Lily as she shut his door.

"Well, your legs are longer than mine," she reasoned. "And skinnier."

"Oh, shut up and take a seat while I grab your presents."

Lily seated herself comfortably on the bed and watched James rummage in the back of his wardrobe.

"Ah, here they are," he cried, pulling out two packages.

Jumping on the bed, causing the mattress to dent a little under the sudden weight of his knees, James handed her the first gift excitedly.

"What is it?" asked Lily, not being able to hold back a smile. "Why is it a rectangle?"

"It’s a square prism and why don’t you open it if you wanna find out?" replied James impatiently.

Once she had torn the packaging and realised what it was, Lily burst into peals of laughter. Inside was a single box of Jaffa Cakes.

"You said you wanted them," said James, holding up his hands in defense.

Lily stuffed her fist in her mouth to quell the laughter, not wanting Angie to hear her.

"Now open the other one," said James. "It’s the proper present."

Taking the much flatter package from James, Lily knew right away what it was.

"It’s a single," she said.

"Really?" cried James in mock-surprise. "The thing that’s the shape and size of a single? I wouldn’t be so sure."

Lily stuck her tongue out at him and unwrapped the gift.

 When she saw what the song was (December, 1963 by the Four Seasons), she didn’t know entirely how to react. Half wanting to laugh because it felt like a private joke between the two of them, half wanting to grab James and snog the living daylight out of him, she settled on looking from the record to James, from James to the record, and so on, like an idiot.

"Do you like it?" he asked, sounding worried.

 "I love it."

James raised his hand as though he wanted to touch her face, but instead ran his fingers through his own hair and said, "Are you tired?"

"Actually I’m exhausted," replied Lily, trying not to sound disappointed.

They two clambered under the duvet bed and settled down to sleep.

A second later, Lily complained, "Your sheets smell awful."

"Angie did warn you."

"But I don’t understand. The rest of your room is clean."

"Well, it doesn’t take a lot of effort to just put things where they’re supposed to be. I haven’t got time to take off my bedsheets and then put new ones on."

"You’re disgusting."

In response James pulled up the duvet and shoved it into Lily’s face.

"This is payback," he laughed. "For your dirty clothes."

He let go when she licked his hand. Their laughter faded away and a confession danced on the tip of Lily’s tongue.

"Hey, listen. I’m kind of worried about you," she said.

"I guessed," he replied.

Closing his eyes, James ran his fingers through his hair and pressed his palms against his temples.

"Are you gonna tell me what’s wrong?" asked Lily. "Not that you have to. But if you want to I’ll be happy to listen and all that."

Nodding slowly, James lowered his right hand to squeeze Lily’s.

"Can I tell you tomorrow?" he said.

"You don’t have to tell me at all."

"I’ll tell you tomorrow."

* * *

 

When Angie awoke to find the living room vacant of any sign of Lily, she was not surprised in the least. Still, when Lily and James both plodded down the stairs some hours later, Angie pretended to believe her nephew when he made up some lie about showing Lily his collection of football trophies.

After making sure that they both had full bowls of cereal before them, Angie disappeared off to watch the telly.

Lily dug in immediately, dribbling a trickle of milk down her chin. James simply stared into his bowl.

"My mum’s got cancer," he said abruptly.

The words sounded harsher when spoken out loud and James suddenly wished he’d said it differently. As if there was a way to soften such words.

Lily’s breath caught in her chest and she was acutely aware of the milk on her chin. Wiping it away with the sleeve of her cardigan, she gave James a look back across the table which she hoped indicated that he should feel welcome to continue his story.

"I found out a couple of weeks ago," said James, his voice shaky. "My parents are gonna move back to England sometime next week. They’d have come earlier but they had a lot of shit to sort out over there first."

A silence hung between them broken only by the faint sound of the television from the other room.

"I’m so sorry," said Lily, at a loss for what else she could offer him.

"I’ve wanted to tell you for ages, but I just didn’t want to deal with it." James took of his glasses and rubbed his face. "It’s shit because I know that I should only be sad, but I’m not just sad. I’m about ninety percent sad and ten percent pissed the fuck off."

He took a deep breath before continuing, "My mum knew she was ill and she didn’t tell me. She could’ve told me a year ago, but she left me in the dark. Apparently she was supposed to have a good few years left so she was going to retire to France to take it easy and give me my freedom, but it’s just bullshit. Anyway she got bad a lot faster than expected so she’s moving back."

"Are they coming here?" asked Lily.

The cereal was left quite forgotten and incredibly soggy.

James shook his head and explained, "I’m getting the train to meet them. Back in Hove. They were going to come and pick me up, but I told them not to bother."

Lily wanted to ask why yet she was certain this was some pride thing she would not only fail to understand, but James would not feel comfortable divulging. Instead she focused her thoughts on two very distressing things: James was suffering and James was leaving.

More than anything she wanted to make him feel better, but she had no idea what she was supposed to do. She could empathise, having dealt with a very similar situation with her father, but empathy wouldn’t do much to soothe James at a time like this.

That was when she noticed the tears beginning to form in the corner of James’ eyes.

Without thinking, Lily scrambled from her chair and rushed over to hug him. As James was still seated, the hug was at a rather awkward angle until James pulled her onto his lap. In their new position, Lily could properly wrap her arms around his neck and stroke his hair as she was prone to do. Burying his head in her neck, James clutched her tightly.

James thought back to a moment some months ago when he had looked at Lily and thought he’d loved her. How foolish could he have been to think that that was what it was like to be in love with Lily Evans?


	18. Watch Me Play

**Chapter Eighteen: Watch Me Play**

Babe I’m Gonna Leave You was stuck in James’ head. It’s never particularly pleasant to have one of your favourite songs play itself on loop in your mind due to rather awful circumstances. Still, James couldn’t help but hum it every time he as much as thought of Lily.

It was funny really.

He’d arrived in Sowsworth with every intention of taking the soonest available exit, no matter what it was. But, given the reason he was actually leaving, he thought he’d much sooner die there.

James was lying on Lily’s bed. She was complaining to him about some snide remark her sister had made while plaiting her hair.

Babe I’m Gonna Leave You kept playing in his head.

* * *

 

Lily’s mother had offered to drop James off at the station. He’d protested that he could catch the bus but when Lily had actually laughed at the idea that catching a local bus would be able to get you to the station at the time you actually wanted it to, if it showed up at all, James allowed for himself to be driven. Sirius joined them for the ride.

Upon reaching the station, all four of them got out of the car so Lily and Sirius could say goodbye properly and Jill could make sure James knew which platform to go to.

As the stood just by the ticket office, Lily and James looked at each other, unsure of what they were supposed to say.

Lily and James should have known that this was logical time to end things between them, that their relationship had no real chance of succeeding. They had been together for less than two months and they were straddling the juvenile line between sixteen and seventeen.

But, had they taken this into account for even a moment, they would not have been the fools that they were.

"I’ll call you a lot," said James earnestly.

"You’ll have to give me your number when you get there. I don’t want you to be wasting too much money on calling me. I’ll phone you too," she replied.

James shook his head and let out a breathy laugh, saying, "Trust me, it’s fine. I’ll call you."

Before Lily could question what on earth he meant by that, James had pulled her into a hug, holding onto her so tightly she found herself raised slightly off of the ground. Not that she minded.

When he released her, James made to step away, but Lily raised her hands to his face and he so he lingered in confusion.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

Lily cupped his head and rubbed his cheeks with her hands.

"Just making sure I don’t forget your ugly face," she said.

Her voice was jovial but there were tears in her eyes.

"This is bizarre even for me," said James, Lily’s hands still on him.

Giving in, James raised his own hands and grabbed Lily’s face with them, shaking it a little. She laughed, freeing his head from her grasp.

"I’m gonna miss you, you absolute weirdo," he said.

"Don’t make it sad," she said, making a face.

Ignoring the irony of her saying this with tears in her eyes, James nodded in compliance and gave her a kiss on the forehead which lasted a little longer than usual.

James pulled his bag over his shoulder, giving Sirius a quick nod in goodbye. Sirius gave him a look of disbelief and drew his best friend in for a hug. Once they broke apart, James muttered his thanks to Jill and departed for his train.

Only when James’ skinny form was completely out of sight did Lily allow herself to start crying possibly.

She felt an arm appear around her shoulder and give her a comforting squeeze. Looking up, she saw it was Sirius and placed her head on his chest.

Jill Evans looked on, no doubt incredibly confused over who it was exactly her daughter was supposed to be going out with.

* * *

 

The house was just as big as James remembered it. The halls were just as cluttered, the kitchen just as rustic, his bedroom full of everything he’d tired of by the age of sixteen.

As he and his father sat down in front of the television that evening to watch the news, it almost felt as though he’d never left.

Almost being the operative word.

Because there was a new tension that hung in the air between James and his father.

Instead of, "I’m so sorry you had to find out like this," Mr. Potter said, "You’ve grown, you know?" and "I hope you’ve been looking after my sister."

Rather than, "Why didn’t you tell me sooner?" James asked "Did you manage to learn much French?" and "Did you try snails?"

Their conversation hinted nothing of the dying mother in bed upstairs while theirs minds were on nothing else.

* * *

 

The next day Dorcas dropped by the Evans Household with a small stack of newsletters. Lily had agreed to help distribute them.

Dorcas hung around for a few moments, unsure whether or not Lily wanted her to be alone or not, but when an invitation to stay was not extended, Dorcas understood.

"I’ll see you tomorrow," said Dorcas, giving Lily a quick kiss on the cheek before vanishing.

Lily picked up the newsletter from the top of the pile and wandered off to the living room so she could read it comfortably. It was mainly advertising the football tournament but Dorcas had also done a small piece on what your nail varnish colour says about your soul. This made Lily chuckle slightly before remembered that the football tournament was one player down and her smile faded.

Then she spotted James’ name. For a second she thought she’d been imagining it, but there it was, real as the sofa she was sat upon: James Potter.

It was a short interview Dorcas had conducted with James and Kenneth some weeks ago, an attempt at an inside scoop into the tournament. Most of the piece consisted of Kenneth explaining the basics.

In fact, James appeared to have said nothing at all until the very end when Dorcas had asked, "And what reason would you give for people to come and watch the football?"

To which James had responded, "To watch me play."

Lily snorted with laughter.

"Oh, you absolute twat," she breathed.

* * *

 

In James’ absence, Benjy had been named captain of their team and had taken over the role of co-organiser with Kenneth.

Thankfully, James had taken it upon himself to sort out as much as possible before leaving. However, there was still one unresolved issue and that was that the tournament had been left short of one player.

"How about I ask Frank again?" suggested Benjy to Kenneth one English lesson.

Kenneth didn’t bother replying. Frank was mentioned on a regular basis but as a suggestion he was never taken seriously. Largely because they both remembered the disaster that was Frank’s last attempt at football and partially because Frank had flat out refused to play ever again.

They were getting a little hopeless, but then they overheard Janine Rosier mutter something to Polly Davies.

"That Dearborn bloke is back again," said Janine. "I have no idea what he’s doing. All I’ve ever seen him do is play football in his garden. He does it a lot as well. It’s very distracting when I’ve got homework."

"Why are you watching him play football?" Benjy couldn’t help but ask, turning around in his chair to face the two gossiping girls behind him and Kenneth.

"I wasn’t talking to you," snapped Janine, rather red in the face. "And if you must know, my bedroom window looks out onto the Dearborn’s garden."

"I still don’t understand why you have to look," said Benjy.

"He’s very good looking," explained Polly.

Benjy opened his mouth to retort, but was stopped by Kenneth tapping on his shoulder. Ignoring the sparks it sent shooting down his arm to be touched by Kenneth, Benjy shot him a questioning look.

"Do you reckon we should ask this Dearborn fellow to play?" asked Kenneth cheerfully.

Benjy could think of several reasons why this plan would not pan out how Kenneth clearly hoped it would, but couldn’t bring himself to say any of them.

"Sure," replied Benjy, smiling encouragingly. "I can’t see why not."

* * *

 

Benjy could not for the life of him figure out how something as simple as visiting the Dearborn house with Kenneth that afternoon had turned into a fully-fledged mission of ten people.

After mentioning the plan to Frank in passing, it was unsurprising that Alice had soon found out. What was more surprising was that Alice and Frank had not only asked to come along, but Alice had invited Dorcas.

"She’s fancies Caradoc. She’d be upset if we went without her," was her explanation.

It still didn’t make much sense to Benjy.

In turn, Dorcas had dragged Mary and Lily along with her. Lily herself had brought Sirius, Remus, and Peter with her, creating a grand total of ten house callers for Caradoc Dearborn.

"This is going to look weird," muttered Benjy as he knocked on the door.

"It’s fine," said Alice briskly.

Frank privately agreed with Benjy, but Alice had an adorable redness in her cheeks from the cold and his she was holding onto his hand tightly even though it was wet with sweat so he didn’t feel at all compelled to voice his thoughts.

"All that matters is that I look pretty," said Dorcas to the group at large.

No one replied so she let out a small cough.

"You’re gorgeous," said Remus, picking up on the hint, an amused smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

Dorcas lifted her chin proudly and replied, "Thank you, Remus," saying his name pointedly. "You’re moustache doesn’t repulse me anymore."

"Thank you."

"He’s not going to answer the door," said Sirius.

Just then the door opened and the teenagers were faced with a very confused and sleepy Caradoc Dearborn still wearing his pyjamas.

"I don’t want to chaperone any discos," snapped Caradoc before slamming the door in their faces.

"Well, at least he opened the door," chirped Peter.

Sirius glared at Peter, not sure whether he was angrier at the boy’s positive attitude or his magnificent beard. He missed James.

"Well, that’s it then," said Benjy, turning to leave. "This was a complete waste of time."

"Hang on," cried Kenneth. "All we know is that he doesn’t want to chaperone a disco. That doesn’t mean that he won’t play football. Now I say we knock again."

He spoke with the passion of a Roman Emperor but received only a sympathetic thumbs up from Lily in response.

Feeling as though that was good enough, Kenneth knocked once more.

Caradoc returned looked incredibly unhappy.

"Hi, sorry," said Kenneth quickly. "But I was just wondering if you’d like to take part in a football match."

Caradoc frowned as he asked, "Why?"

"For charity," called Mary from the back of the group.

Mary was growing colder by the minute and could feel her lips turning blue. The quicker this was over the happier she’d be.

"If this going to be a discussion, could we come inside?" she added.

With a sigh, Caradoc stepped aside and let his large number of visitors enter. Dorcas tried to flip her hair over her shoulder as she walked past but accidentally hit Sirius in the face. She spent the next minute apologising profusely, but Sirius just laughed. Remus and Lily laughed harder.

They all crammed into the living room, which was not much warmer than the air outside, but it was still an improvement.

A few of them took seats. Alice perched on Frank’s knee and Lily missed James.

"Okay," sighed Caradoc, throwing himself into the biggest armchair. "Can you please just tell me what this is about so I can kick you out?"

"Can we light a fire first?" asked Sirius. "It’s fucking freezing."

Caradoc waved a careless hand indicating that if Sirius could do it himself then he didn’t mind what they did with his fireplace.

As Peter searched for matches on nearby surfaces and Sirius sorted through kindling, Kenneth addressed Caradoc.

"Well, we’ve got this football tournament to save sponsored by the church," he explained. "Only we’re a player down and we were wondering if you’d be interested in playing."

"How does a football match raise money?" questioned Caradoc.

"We’re gonna have raffles and cake sales," said Lily.

"And betting," added Dorcas loudly. "Are we telling people about the betting?" she asked of Remus in a whisper.

"I think people need to know about the betting in order for them to actually bet," replied Remus. "But even if we weren’t then whispering after telling them isn’t going to do much."

"Good point," she said before flashing Caradoc a smile. "There will also be betting."

"I heard," replied Caradoc. "Look kids, I’m really sorry, but I just don’t have the time to play football with you."

"You’re in pyjamas at four in the afternoon," Lily pointed out.

Caradoc gave her a blank look in response and everyone was given the eerie feeling that they should probably leave.

Then, quite suddenly, Peter accidentally set Sirius’ shoe on fire.

* * *

 

If the rest of Hangleton road had not been aware of the bizarre presence of ten teenagers, eight of them being Locals, stumbling around, then Sirius’ yelps would have ensured that everyone knew.

After being kicked out of the Dearborn house, Sirius was attempting to brace the cold with one shoeless foot, letting out uncontrollable whimpers the whole time.

"I don’t understand why you thought the best solution was to throw your shoe into the fire," said Remus.

"I’m not going to pretend I thought it through," admitted Sirius.

"I think the fire singed your beard a little bit, Sirius" said Remus, hanging back with Sirius and Peter behind the rest of the group. Sirius could only walk slowly. "It looks all patchy. Oh, wait a minute. That’s how it looked before, isn’t it?"

"I will beat you to death with the other shoe," seethed Sirius before letting out his loudest yelp yet.

The noise caused a puzzled Avery to look out of his window. The sight of eight Locals wandering around Richie territory was not a welcome one.

Avery sprinted off to find Mulciber.

Sirius let out one last yelp before Frank stopped and turned to him, asking "Do you want me to carry you?"

Sirius scoffed, but Benjy gave him a nod which indicated Frank was not joking.

"Frank’s weirdly strong," explained Alice.

"Really?" asked Sirius sceptically. "I think I’m fine."

"It’s no trouble. You’re not all that tall," said Frank.

Then, without further ado, Frank wrapped one arm around Sirius and flung him over his shoulder.

"How are you doing this?" asked Sirius, incredulous as Frank and the rest of the group began to walk on.

Remus was trying his hardest not to laugh.

"What’s happening?" said Lily, turning around to see why everyone had slowed down.

Upon seeing Sirius hanging limply over Frank’s shoulder, whose breath was only slightly shallower under the weight, Lily, Dorcas, and Mary fell to the floor in fits of laughter.

Sirius craned his neck so he could scowl at the three girls past Frank.

"Aren’t you cold?" he snapped, referring to Lily who was on her knees.

"Yeah, but this is too funny," she choked through her laughter.

"Okay, I’ve had enough. Put me down," demanded Sirius.

In the time it took for Frank to place Sirius on the ground once more, the laughter completely ebbed away. When Sirius was standing straight, he saw why.

Mulciber, Avery, Rosier, Snape, Ascella, and Regulus blocked their path, folding their arms in an attempt at looking intimidating.

None of the Locals were particularly concerned, given that they outnumbered the enemy by a good five to three, but they weren’t pleased either. It was never pleasant to run into such company.

"Black, Pettigrew, why are you bringing locals up here?" sneered Rosier.

"You know we can actually find our way here by ourselves," said Remus dryly.

"Were we talking to you Wheezer?" asked Mulciber, spitting at Remus as he did so.

That was when Sirius punched Mulciber in the face.

It did not take long for the fight to escalate. Dorcas and Lily found themselves tackling Avery to the ground to keep him from hitting Benjy. Kenneth was kicked in the stomach by Ascella while Rosier pulled Remus’ hair and threw him against the nearest car, causing Remus to fall limp to the floor.

Alice grabbed Regulus’ hand and bit down hard. Regulus couldn’t help but let out a cry of shock and everyone stopped fighting to turn and look. That is, everyone except Mulciber and Sirius who were in a messy heap on the floor, punching any part of the other they could reach.

Frank took this moment, when everyone was distracted, to punch Rosier in the nose. In one hit, Rosier was down on the pavement, blood gushing from his face. He scrambled away from Frank in fear. 

Almost all eyes were on Frank and Rosier, until Alice suddenly kicked Regulus from behind his knees, sending him crashing down. She then stood on his hand, causing him to cry out again.

"You’re fucking psychos," cried Rosier.

Mulciber, who had Sirius in a headlock, released him.

The fighting had ceased. The Richies were backing away. Frank ignored this and went to check on Kenneth. Mary was hovering over Remus. Peter hadn’t moved since the fighting began, unharmed, but eyes wide in horror.

Then they all heard a door open and voice cry out, "What the bloody hell was that?"

Turning, they saw Caradoc standing in the middle of the street in his pyjamas. Seeing several bleeding teens, he ran over to them. By the time he had reached them, the Richies had disappeared from view.

"Help me get him inside," Caradoc requested of Mary, referring to Remus.

Together they supported Remus into the Dearborn house. Kenneth’s wind had returned enough for him to hobble with Benjy’s assistance. Alice and Frank tried to help Sirius, but he refused to accept.

"I’m fine," protested Remus as he was lain down on the sofa. "I promise I’m fine."

Sirius watched from the corner with a surly expression.

"You might have internal bleeding. We should get you to the hospital," said Caradoc. "I’ll drive you."

"I’ll come," said Sirius.

* * *

 

As Remus was getting checked over, Caradoc and Sirius sat together in the waiting room. They hadn’t said a word to each other since Remus had gone off with the doctor. Sirius was reading the nearest newspaper and Caradoc was staring hard at the grey speckled floor. So much schoolboy hatred was bubbling inside the both of them.

"Why were you fighting them?" asked Caradoc.

Sirius glared over his newspaper.

"Because they’re cocks," he answered simply.

"But what have they got against you particularly?" said Caradoc. "That’s nastier than anything I’ve ever seen them do."

Sirius chuckled, "You should’ve seen what Frank and Alice did."

"You still haven’t answered my question."

Sighing, Sirius began to explain, "It’s this whole farm business. We want it saved. They want it turned into a golf course. It’s all been blown out of proportion. A bit Romeo and Juliet if you ask me, only without the star-crossed lovers and the pointless suicide."

"And this football thing is to save the farm, isn’t it?"

"That’s the hope."

"Then I’ll play."

* * *

 

Remus was absolutely fine, if not a bit shaken up. Sirius blamed himself entirely for starting the fight in the first place whereas Remus kept pointing out that it had been Rosier, not Sirius, who had smashed his face into the hood of a car.

"Stop feeling sorry for yourself," said Remus once lunchtime as he, Sirius, and Peter engaged in their favourite mindless activity of stacking fully set chess boards. "After all, I’m the one who got a car to the face."

"I’m not feeling sorry for myself," snarled Sirius. "I’m plotting revenge."

Peter laughed nervously.

"Don’t laugh," snapped Sirius. "What were you doing during the fight, eh?"

"Oh, leave him alone," said Remus in a tired voice.

Sirius obeyed but only given the guilt he felt for inadvertently injuring Remus.

Peter swallowed hard. Having the fullest beard of his friends no longer gave him a sense of pride. He desperately wanted to shave it off.

* * *

 

Dorcas hadn’t stopped bragging about how she was certain she’d managed to knee Avery in the bollocks as she and Lily had knocked him down.

Mary always replied that he’d seemingly walked away just fine.

One afternoon, as they lounged in Lily’s living room, Lily promised to ask James next time he called how quickly after you get kneed in the bollocks you can walk normally.

"Can’t we just experiment on Colin instead?" asked Dorcas who was lying upside down on an armchair, her hair draping on the floor and her legs kicking in the air.

"He’s my brother," Mary reminded her.

"Which means we have unlimited access to him. It’s the perfect crime," said Dorcas.

"I think the blood is rushing to your head."

Lily wasn’t listening. Her mind was stuck on her phone calls with James and how he sounded as sad as ever, if not worse. It was to be expected after all, but she still couldn’t help but hope for a time when she’d hear him properly laugh again. A good hearty chuckle from James Potter’s belly was what she wanted more than anything else.

When she came back to her senses Dorcas and Mary were still arguing about Colin’s bollocks.

The three of them could have had this conversation four months ago, when Kenneth was still her boyfriend and James Potter was merely a vague annoyance in her peripheral vision.

It was strange, thought Lily, how life persisted in the same way no matter what.

"Anyway," said Dorcas, turning herself the right way up. Her face was flushed. "What do you two think of Frank and Alice being absolutely terrifying?"

"I suppose they had to have something in common," mused Mary.

"I always knew Alice was tough, but I never expected that of Frank," said Lily. "I always thought he wasn’t athletic at all. Especially after that whole throwing up because a football came near him thing."

"Well there’s a difference between punching someone in the face so hard that they bleed and kicking a ball I suppose," said Mary.

"I bet they have really weird sex," voiced Dorcas. "They probably beat each other up for foreplay."

Mary and Lily both imagined it for a moment before wishing they had done no such thing.

Still, Lily couldn’t help but smile.

Just because life kept going didn’t mean it wasn’t ever changing. There would always be something new, regardless of James Potter. For example, the possibility of Frank and Alice engaging in violent foreplay.

 


	19. Rats and Eagles

**Chapter Nineteen: Rats and Eagles**

On the twelfth of February half of Sowsworth received a small white envelope in the post.

Inside was a card which read, "You are cordially invited to the wedding of Hestia Jones and Fabian Prewett on the second of April at St. Albus’ church. The service starts at ten o’clock and you are welcome to join us for dinner and dancing at the town hall afterwards."

* * *

 

Remus was not at all experienced in taking bets, never having gambled on so much as a card game in his life. In spite of this, he felt confident that he wouldn’t fail. After all, how hard could it be?

Remus thought he’d start easy and approached a couple of girls in year ten who were eating ham sandwiches in the canteen. The ginger girl blushed when at the presence of the older boy.

"Excuse me, but would you like to place a bet?" he said kindly. "It’s for the football tournament."

"Is that legal?" asked the ginger.

She reminded Remus fiercely of Dorcas.

"It’s for charity," answered Remus off-handedly.

He then placed the clipboard he was holding on the table so the two girls could see the team lists. They both placed ten pence each on Colin Macdonald’s team.

This filled Remus with a sense of accomplishment which was soon seized forcibly from him by the next group of people he approached.

"Sorry," said a gawky looking boy in the year above, gesturing to his two friends. "We’ve already placed bets with someone else."

This happened twelve times before Remus had had enough.

* * *

 

James’ friends back in Hove were as vile as ever, which was a great comfort to him. He was tired of being trapped in his childhood home, feeling as though he was merely waiting around for his mother to die. It was far more enjoyable to immerse himself in his old life, drinking cider at the local skate park with his old football team, most of whom he had little to no fondness for whatsoever. If he got caught up in a game of who could piss higher up the wall behind the local chip shop, it was almost as if the last six months had never happened.

But as James watched Greg and Barry attempting to crush their cans of cider on Nick’s forehead, he found himself wishing that Sirius were there. Sirius, after all, would have had no trouble crushing an empty can on Nick’s forehead. Hell, even Remus with his weak wrists could have done it.

* * *

 

A Sartre novel in his right hand, a can of coke in the other, Sirius was content enough to ignore the fact that he was in the sixth-form common room, surrounded by peers he detested, sitting in one of the stickier arm chairs.

That was until Remus Lupin arrived, snatched away the can of coke and downed the last few dregs before crushing it on Sirius’ forehead.

"Might I ask what that was about?" asked Sirius through gritted teeth.

"For collecting bets behind my back," replied Remus calmly. "I told you I’d sort it out."

"What are you on about?"

Remus tilted his head, staring down at Sirius with one eyebrow raised.

"Oh, come off it," said Remus. "Are you gonna pretend you don’t know why most of the people at this school say they’ve already placed bets on the football tournament?"

Sirius scowled for a moment before saying, "No, I reckon I know why. But before hit me with your fancy clipboard, it’s not my fault."

"What are you on about? Are you saying the Richies did this?"

"Nah, why would they? As far as they know this is just a church fundraiser."

"Then who?" sighed Remus.

"Do you know Mundungus Fletcher?"

* * *

 

Mundungus Fletcher turned out to be a skinny ginger boy in year eleven with remarkably dirty hands and a lingering scent of marijuana hanging about him. Sirius and Remus found him, as Sirius had expected to, in the overgrown and underused courtyard behind the Geography classrooms.

As Sirius and Remus approached, they saw that Mundungus was accompanied by two girls. It seemed like he was trying to sell them something, but when they saw Sirius and Remus, they exchanged a nervous look before muttering excuses and departing.

"Sirius, mate, you just lost me a couple of customers," said Mundungus grumpily, stowing what looked like a fake gold necklace and a couple of beer cans into his bag. "You better have come here to buy something."

"Actually we’re here to talk to you about the football tournament," explained Remus.

"Oh, you wanna place a bet?" asked Mundungus, looking pleased.

"Not quite," said Remus.

"We’re here to tell you to stop collecting bets for the football tournament," said Sirius with a slightly threatening tone to his voice.

"And why should I do that?" said Mundungus firmly, straightening his back to make himself appear taller.

Yet there was something akin to fear in his eyes.

"Because we’re supposed to be collecting bets for charity," Remus told him.

"Again, why should I stop taking bets?" said Mundungus, edging slowly out of the courtyard.

Remus and Sirius followed, Mundungus facing them as he led.

Sirius clenched his fist and asked, "Where do you think you’re going, Dung?"

"I just like to walk and talk," replied Mundungus.

With an elbow to the ribs from Remus, Sirius unclenched his fist and allowed Mundungus to keep walking backwards towards the football field.

"You know the whole reason we’re organising this tournament is to raise money for charity," said Remus. "And if we’re not making any money, we might as well cancel the whole thing."

"So the money’s all coming from gambling? That’s not very Christian is it? I thought this was a church thing," said Mundungus, laughing awkwardly. "Besides, I saw the flyer and there’s supposed to be stalls and all sorts selling cakes and what-not. Are you telling me there’s no money coming from that?"

"It’s not that," began Remus, but before he could continue, Mrs. Hale appeared and Mundungus very quickly turned and ran towards her.

"Miss," cried Mundungus. "I was wondering if you could help me. There’s this part of the Maths homework I’m not getting."

Mrs. Hale looked exceptionally taken-aback by this, most likely because Mundungus had never handed in a piece of homework in his entire life. She quickly recovered, eager to take the opportunity to encourage a troubled student to get excited about algebra.

Remus and Sirius were left with no option but to watch Mundungus disappear with Mrs. Hale. They could hardly start a fight in front of a teacher.

"No, Sirius, we can’t just lead with violence. We have to try and reason with him first," said Sirius in a high-pitched voice intended as an imitation of Remus. Then, continuing in his natural voice, "I told you reason doesn’t work with Dung. Violence and money are the only ways you’ll get anything out of him."

Remus smiled brightly and said, with such serenity it was almost frightening, "Not to worry. We’ll just have to kick his head in next time."

* * *

 

Nervous perspiration dotted Peter’s forehead as he knocked on Avery’s bedroom door. He was pretty sure Avery’s mother had noticed the damp patches on his t-shirt when she’d let him in the house.

"Come in," called Avery from inside.

Peter opened the door to see Avery lying on his bed, feet dangling off the edge, a music magazine in his hands. Steve Miller Band was blaring from the record player in the corner.

"Mulciber wanted me to have a word with you," said Avery, neither moving from his position on the bed nor offering Peter the chair at his desk.

Unsure of the best course of action, Peter merely lingered in the doorway. After a moment Avery put down his magazine and met Peter’s eye.

"Apparently there was another youth club disco last night. Why didn’t you let us know about it?" asked Avery.

"I didn’t know about it," stammered Peter.

Avery raised a disbelieving eyebrow, saying, "Well, Mulciber’s not too pleased as you can imagine. He reckons you do this on purpose. Maybe you only helped us out with the tickets to get that internship at my dad’s company this summer."

"Exactly," said Peter with such sudden excitement it caused Avery to sit up in astonishment. "I did it because I wanted the job so badly. Why would I do anything to make you take it away?"

"Well, you’re a complete moron, Pettigrew. We figured you’d be stupid enough to think you could keep us happy and still play around with those new little friends of yours."

Peter’s heart rate quickened. Avery couldn’t take the internship from him. What else was there for him out there? He was useless at school and it wasn’t as though his mum had any connections; she was just living off of his dead grandparent’s small fortune.

"I can prove I’m on your side," said Peter desperately. "I’ll give you information about the football tournament."

"The church thing? Why would we give care about that?"

"Because the church is gonna donate all the money to the Prewett farm."

"They can’t do that. It’s not even a real charity."

"They are though. And if you promise to let me work with your dad this summer, I’ll help you make sure the Prewetts don’t keep any of that money."

* * *

 

"So the disco was absolutely awful," announced Dorcas as she burst into Lily’s bedroom, followed closely by Mary.

"Yes, please come in and make yourself comfortable," said Lily dryly, putting down her copy of Jackie as Dorcas kicked off her shoes and climbed into the bed beside Lily.

Mary sat in her usual place at Lily’s feet.

"Sorry, we have to take any opportunity to spend time with you we can," said Dorcas. "You’re always on the phone to James these days."

Ignoring Dorcas’ comment about James, Lily asked, "What’s this about a disco?"

"Well, remember how we said that there were gonna be more youth club events now?" explained Mary. "The first disco was last night and it was terrible. Barely anyone showed up."

"Why didn’t you tell me about it?" asked Lily, perplexed.

"You spoke to my dad about it over dinner the other day," Mary reminded her.

"We came by to get you, but your mum said you were on the phone to James," said Dorcas.

"I feel so bad. I could’ve tried to get people to come along," said Lily.

"Well, you’ve got James to worry about," reasoned Dorcas.

"No, that’s not an excuse," said Lily. "I mean, I was the one who started this whole thing. I was the one who first promised to help Fabian save his farm. I should really be doing more to help."

But how could she concentrate on Sowsworth when all of her thoughts were elsewhere, down in a coastal town she’d never even been to?

"Anyway," said Dorcas, bringing Lily back to the reality of her tiny village. "Who wants to go watch football practice?"

* * *

 

One of the gifts James’ father had given him, as a not so subtle bribe for forgiveness, was a cassette tape. They had played it during almost every trip to and from the hospital which James’ mother had recently been moved to. This quite quickly led James to develop a hatred for the Eagles and the entirety of their Hotel California album.

It was on an afternoon trip back from the hospital, while the title track of the album blared from the cassette player, that James’ father, Kieran Potter, first spoke of life after James’ mother.

"I won’t be going back to France," he said.

This stunned James for a moment. Then he realised that he shouldn’t have been surprised at all. Had he really expected his father to go back to France alone? Truthfully, he hadn’t considered life after his mother’s death. The whole ordeal felt like a horrific reprise from reality, not an event which would change the course of his future.

He’d definitely harboured, without even being aware of it, a vague assumption that he’d return to Sowsworth. Perhaps he’d even thought of Sowsworth as his own personal Hotel California, as though he’d never really leave it.

With a small shudder James thought he’d listened to that song far too much for his own good and turned the volume down so that an uncomfortable silence filled the car.

"You don’t have to live with me if you don’t want to though," said Kieran Potter weakly. "I’d understand."

This also stunned James and would continue to stun him until the day of his death.

"Come off it, dad," said James. Then, with the most convincing grin he could muster, he joked, "I’m not gonna let you abandon me again."

* * *

 

The football practices were going rather well. There had been a couple of friendly matches between the opposing teams and no fights had broken out so far (although Stebbins had once had to be restrained by Tim from hitting a fourteen year old boy who’d stolen the ball).

Benjy was finding himself growing into his role of leader and, though he didn’t quite have James’ command, his quiet and sensible authority was respected by his entire team. Except for Sirius, of course, who had not yet turned up to a single practice.

Given that his presence had no effect on the amount of money that would be raised, Sirius argued that there was no point in wasting his time.

Caradoc, however, was participating well.

It seemed he held almost as big a grudge against the Richies as the Locals did, and so was keen to do his part to ‘stick it to them’.

Dorcas was incredibly pleased by this and watched the practices as often as she could. Lily had said she would attend several, but like Sirius had been absent from them all, and Mary had quickly grown bored of listening to Dorcas rate the boys’ body hair out of ten.

Due to this, Dorcas was sitting alone at the edge of the make-shift football pitch Kenneth and Benjy’s teams had set up on the village green when she was approached by Maureen Baddock.

"Who are you rooting for?" asked Maureen, bending her knees so she was closer to Dorcas’ level.

"Benjy’s team."

"How come?"

"Because Caradoc’s dreamy and I want him to do well."

Maureen glanced at the players and assumed Caradoc was the one she didn’t completely recognise.

"Really?" said Maureen, incredulous. "I suppose if you like that sort of thing. See you around Meadowes."

With that she stood up straight and carried on walking across the green.

Dorcas watched Maureen go, stealing a look back at Caradoc every so often, confused. Caradoc was definitely attractive. He had decent sized features and a fashionable hair style. In fact, he would not have looked out of place in a band. One with good looking members as well, like the Bay City Rollers.

Perhaps Maureen Baddock was so beautiful she that her standards were higher than that of the average teenage girl. That seemed a reasonable explanation to Dorcas and so she went back to watching the game.

* * *

 

James didn’t get along with most of his cousins, finding them dull and spoiled by their wealth. In fact, the only one he really liked was Kingsley Shacklebolt, his dad’s cousin’s son, and a decent footballer.

James could not remember ever being more thankful for Kingsley. Bad enough as it was that his mother was dying, the whole ordeal was made worse by the constant presence of his relatives coming to visit them, hoping to say their last goodbyes or cook them a roast or whatever these people incorrectly thought was appropriate to burden a grieving family with.

Kingsley was alright though. Kingsley played football with James.

On top of all that Kingsley had been in a long distance relationship with his girlfriend Hannah, who went to university in Liverpool, for almost a year now and so seemed the right person to ask for advice.

"So you’re staying in Hove?" said Kingsley. "It’ll be good to have you back."

The two boys were sitting on the stone steps that led from James’ house to his enormous garden, cans of cider by their feet.

"The thing is, I’ve got this girlfriend back in Sowsworth," began James.

"Oh, you’ll wanna break that off," said Kingsley somberly. "After what happened with me and Hannah. Long distance is a pain in the arse."

"What happened to you and Hannah?" asked James, swallowing nervously; this was not the response he’d been hoping for.

"We broke up. It was horrible. We had a huge fight."

"Oh."

"Listen, how much do you like this girl?"

"I don’t know," lied James. "A bit."

"If you like her then break it off," said Kingsley wisely. "Me and Hannah don’t even talk anymore. If we’d just done the smart thing and broken up before she’d gone we might still be friends."

James nodded slowly before taking an exceptionally large swig of cider.

* * *

 

The next time Remus and Sirius went to find Mundungus Fletcher, they brought Peter along with them for backup. In addition, Remus had also borrowed his neighbour’s plastic cricket bat.

"You do realise I can’t fight?" said Peter nervously as they approached the infamous courtyard.

"Keep your mouth shut, Peter," complained Sirius. "We might know you’re useless, but Dung doesn’t."

Mundungus was smoking when they found him, but he dropped the cigarette as soon as he realised he had company.

"Shit, I thought you were teachers," he said. Then he asked rather defensively, "What do you lot want?"

"The money you’ve collected from those bets," said Remus.

"And that little black book you use to keep record," added Sirius. "We want to make sure you’re not keeping any of the cash for yourself."

Mundungus’ eyes flickered around nervously, desperately looking for an escape from this situation and eyeing the cricket bat at Remus’ side warily. Unfortunately, the three boys sufficiently blocked the entrance to the courtyard.

"Why should I give you any of my money?" said Mundungus.

Remus and Sirius shared a look before advancing on Mundungus, backing him up against a wall.

"I don’t think you want us to hurt you, Mundungus," said Remus calmly. "Why don’t you just hand it over?"

After it became clear Mundungus was in no rush to hand anything over, Sirius punched him in the face.

Remus was in the middle of raising the cricket bat when the all too familiar sound of clicking filled the air.

"Is that McGonagall?" asked Sirius.

Mundungus looked delighted.

"I wonder what she’ll say about this," said Mundungus, pointing to the swelling of his nose.

"We’ll give you five percent," said Peter quickly, his voice high in pitch. "If you don’t tell McGonagall and hand over the money and the book we’ll give you five percent of what the football tournament makes. That’s profits from the stalls and everything. Not to mention these two won’t kick your teeth out."

The clicks of Miss McGonagall’s heels were getting louder.

With a sigh, Mundungus pulled a black notebook out of his backpack, along with a small plastic bag which jangled with coins.

"Five percent, yeah?" he said, handing them over to Sirius.

Sirius gave a slight nod. This was enough for Mundungus and he slipped past the three boys, running away from the sound of McGonagall’s approach.

A moment later, the woman in question had appeared around the corner, seeing Peter, Remus, and Sirius loitering suspiciously in the courtyard.

"Not smoking I hope boys," she said sharply.

She didn’t believe them when they denied it, they could tell, but as she hadn’t actually caught them doing anything against the rules, she was forced to leave them be.

"Why’d you say that, Pete?" cried Sirius as soon as McGonagall’s footsteps had faded. "We can’t give him five percent. That’s ridiculous."

"I know," said Peter coolly. "But all we needed was the book and the cash before McGonagall found us. We don’t actually have to give him anything."

"That’s actually rather clever," said Remus.

"A twattish thing for us to do, but yeah, pretty clever," agreed Sirius, clapping Peter on the back.

* * *

 

Jill Evans was washing up when the phone started ringing. This was followed, as expected, but the sound of her daughters bickering from the other room. Then, Lily ran into the room at full speed, calling back to Petunia, "Well, if it is Vernon I’ll give it straight to you, yeah?" and picking up the phone.

"Hello," she said.

"Lily?"

It was James. His voice broke slightly as he spoke.

"Hi, yeah it’s me," she replied, twirling the phone cord a little too tightly around her index finger in her anxiety. "You okay?"

"Mum’s gone," said James.

"Oh," she said stupidly, thinking she should probably add, "I’m so sorry."

"Listen," he began before she could saying anything else, Lily thought she heard him swallow hard. "Do you reckon you could come to the funeral this Friday?"

She’d wanted to answer immediately with, "Of course," but the price of the train ticket down to Hove stopped her.

Almost as if he knew this was on her mind, James said, "We’ll pay for your ticket."

"I can’t ask you to do that."

"I’m offering."

"It’ll be expensive though."

"Which is why I’m paying for you."

Lily bit her lip in consideration.

Finally she asked, "Are you sure you can afford it?"

She knew funerals were expensive.

To her surprise, James actually let out a small laugh, weak but noticeable.

"Sorry," he said quickly. "Trust me, it won’t be a problem. Please come."

"Of course. When do you want me to come down?"

"It doesn’t really matter. You could come tomorrow if you’d like," he suggested nonchalantly.

Lily understood this to mean that he’d very much like her to arrive as soon as possible.

"I’ll get the train tomorrow morning," she decided.

"Okay," said James, sounding a little relieved. "Listen, I have to go now. All my cousins are here and Angie’s giving me this look as though I’m being inappropriate being on the phone for so long."

"When did Angie get there?"

"A couple of nights ago. Listen, I’ve really got to go. But I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah? I’ll pay you back for the ticket as soon as you get here."

"Okay."

Then quite suddenly James said, "I love you," and hung up the phone.

 


	20. The Sea in Februrary

**Chapter Twenty: The Sea in February**

Lily clutched the phone to her ear after James hung up until her palm grew too sweaty to bear and she was forced to hang up.

"Was that James?" asked Jill, who of course knew it was James but wanted to appear as though she hadn’t been listening.

"His mum died," said Lily helplessly.

Dropping the fork she’d been scrubbing into the dirty dishwater, Jill rushed over to her youngest daughter and pulled her into a tight hug.

"Mum," groaned Lily. "I’m fine. It’s James I’m worried about."

But in spite of her words of protest, Lily hugged her mother back just as tightly.

* * *

 

Lily called James the next morning to confirm her time of arrival.

Before Lily caught the train to London, from which she’d catch a second train to Hove, she stopped by Hangleton road. She was a little wary of being there by herself. Not simply because she knew Mulciber and his cohorts wouldn’t take kindly to her trespassing on what they considered her territory, especially after what had happened last time locals had visited the big houses. No, she was far more concerned with the possibility of running into Severus. She didn’t have nearly the time or patience to deal with his questioning her life and whining apologies right then. All of her concentration was reserved for James.

James was why she had gone to Hangleton road in the first place, not thinking it was right to go without speaking to Sirius first.

A small and miserable-looking servant answered the Black’s door and showed her to Sirius’ bedroom. Grimmauld House was one of the smaller houses on the road. Yet it made up for this with its gaudy and overly decorated interior.

It was such an eyesore, Lily was thankful to have posters of scantily clad women on motorbikes to look at instead when Sirius finally appeared and led her to his bedroom.

"I suppose you got a call from James last night," said Sirius, shutting the door behind them.

"Yeah, did he phone you too?"

Sirius nodded solemnly.

"I just wanted to make sure you knew before I left," explained Lily.

"Where are you going?"

"To the funeral."

"Unbelievable," complained Sirius. "He told me he’d invite me to Hove ages ago and you get to go first?"

Lily scowled, confused and slightly offended, before Sirius cracked a grin and said, "Lily, I’m joking. My God, you should’ve seen your face."

"You’re such a prick."

Giving her a wink, Sirius walked over to his desk and began rummaging through the mess.

"Actually, I’m really glad you came. Would you mind giving this to James?" said Sirius, scrawling on a piece of paper with a felt tip, folding it up and handing it to Lily.

"What is it?"

"Something for James to read if he needs cheering up."

* * *

 

The night before, all Lily had been able to think of was what she’d say to James, if she’d look unforgivably awful in the dress she’d borrowed from Petunia, if she’d take up too much space in James’ house, if things would be too awkward between the two of them.

However, on the train ride, one worry became so all-consuming any other concern left her mind. The worry was that the shoes she was wearing, the only black shoes she owned, the ones she’d worn to school in year eleven, were far more scuffed than she’d remembered.

Now she’d look horribly underdressed. Why hadn’t she packed another pair? Mary must have had a pair she could’ve borrowed. But then again Mary had tiny feet.

Her mind ran on in this way until finally the train pulled up. She caught a glimpse of James’ mess of black hair and all thoughts rushed towards him.

She practically jumped off the train and onto the platform.

"Oi, Potter!" she cried.

James gave a start. Then, turning to see it was Lily, grinned widely and ran over to her, hugging her with such eagerness she was both slightly crushed and lifted off the ground.

"Did you miss me then?" she teased, kissing the side of his head.

She felt him nod into her shoulder.

* * *

Lily almost walked past James’ house as they walked back from the station,  not expecting him to turn in at the largest house down one of the most beautiful and, no doubt, expensive streets she’d ever walked down in her life.

"Do you live here?" she cried, jogging to make up for the lost distance between them.

"Yeah, why?" he said, digging in his pocket for a key.

"It’s massive. I didn’t know you were loaded! It’s like you’re related to the royal family. Oh my god, are you related to the royal family?" James paused in his attempt to open the door to shoot her a look of incredulity and amusement. "Right. You’d have said if you were related to the royal family. You never said you were rich though," she reasoned.

James pushed open the front door and Lily caught a glimpse of a very old-looking painting in a gold frame hanging in the hallway.

"I said my parents retired to France. I thought that was basically the same as telling you they’re rich."

James led her up a large marble stairwell with rather intricate railing. She thought every individual item she passed must be worth more money than her entire house. This put the wealth of those on Hangleton Road to shame. Grimmauld House was a bungalow in comparison.

James’ room was nothing like the rest of the house. Although it was large and well-furnished, the objects that filled the room were not unlike those you’d find in the bedroom of any other teenage boy. There were Led Zeppelin posters, old looking books and a couple of football trophies. It was just as tidy as his room in Sowsworth.

"I like your room," said Lily, standing beside James by the closed door, unsure what their next move was.

"You don’t like the rest of the house?" inquired James.

"No, I do," stammered Lily. "It’s just that I didn’t expect it to be this fancy."

James let out a long and dramatic sigh.

"Well, I suppose you’ll be wanting to marry me now," he said.

"And why’s that? For the house? There’s not a house big enough to get me to spend my life with you. You know, I really don’t like you very much at all."

James pinched Lily’s nose between his thumb and forefinger.

"Okay, so you can sleep in here with me if you want," said James cautiously. "But there’s a spare room free if you’d prefer."

"Your dad’ll let me sleep with you?"

"At this point I’m pretty sure my dad would let me burn down the house."

Smiling, Lily dropped her bag to the floor and said, "Then I’ll stay with you."

"Okay, then," replied James with a grin.

Lily shifted her weight onto her toes and kissed him. James raised his hand to her cheek, cupping it gently, and deepened the kiss, biting gently on her bottom lip. At that, Lily pulled James backwards onto the bed.

* * *

 

Around half an hour later they were lying in bed arguing over which country ABBA was from. Their clothes had been abandoned in all corners of the room a while ago.

"It’s Switzerland," said James for what must have been the tenth time. "It’s definitely Switzerland."

Lily head was resting on his hairless, teenage chest.

"You can say Switzerland all you want, but it won’t change the fact that ABBA are from Sweden," she retorted.

"I think you’re getting confused because they both begin with ‘S’"

"I’m pretty sure you’re the one who’s confused."

"We should ask Sirius. They are his favourite band," joked James.

"Oh, Sirius wanted me to give something to you," said Lily, suddenly remembering the note and clambering out of the bed.

"Oh, God, whatever it is can’t be good," groaned James as Lily bent, stark naked, over her bag.

After a few seconds of rummaging, Lily jumped back onto the bed and handed James the crumpled piece of paper. Trying not to look excited, James unfolded it and read the words Sirius had written just that morning.

"That absolute arse," cried James.

"What does it say?" asked Lily.

"It says ‘Lily’s mum likes me more than you.’ Why would he send me this?" But James was smiling. "Honestly, he’s a complete cock. How is he?"

* * *

 

They awoke early the next morning. The funeral wasn’t until the afternoon, but Angie Potter was determined to get everyone rounded up for breakfast. A couple of James’ younger cousins were particularly unhappy about this, but their parents muttered angry words, telling them not to be rude and reminding them that they were here for a funeral.

As Lily yawned into her cereal, unable to stop herself, she shot Angie a glance, hoping she hadn’t seen.

Angie smiled back at her and said, "It’s lovely to see you, dear."

* * *

 

Due to a dread of being the person to hold up the whole funeral, Lily was dressed and ready a couple of hours before they had to leave. Unsure of where she was supposed to go now, she waited in James’ room for further instruction.

She had just finished a solid ten minutes of worrying about the scuffs on her shoes when James entered, fully dressed in a suit and tie.

"You look lovely," he said, "That dress is horrible."

"It’s Petunia’s."

"You need to stop borrowing her clothes. Listen, are you up for a walk? My family’s driving me nuts and I thought you’d like to see the sea."

"Now?"

"Well, if you’re leaving tomorrow we might not get another chance."

Lily didn’t know if two hours before your mother’s funeral was the right time to take your girlfriend to the seaside, but James looked desperate to leave the house so she grabbed her coat.

* * *

 

Hove beach was composed almost entirely of tiny stones. Several of which James picked up and attempted to skim across the seawater.

"It doesn’t work so well when there’s waves."

Lily shivered beside him in the February wind. Noticing this, James removed his scarf and draped it over Lily’s shoulder.

"Here take this," he said, throwing a rather large stone which fell into the water with a plunk.

"This is going to sound insane," began Lily, still shivering as she wrapped James’ scarf around her neck. "But I really want to go into the water."

James turned his head slowly towards her, a serious expression on his face.

"Let’s do it," he said.

Swearing under their breath at the harshness of the cold, Lily and James prepared themselves to enter the sea. Lily kicked off her old shoes, checking that nobody was around before lifting her skirt and pulling down her tights.

"Shit! It’s bloody freezing," she cried.

James nodded in agreement, tucking his socks into his very shiny dress shoes and rolling up the legs of his trousers to the knee.

"You ready?" he asked.

"As much as I’ll ever be."

On James’ count of three they ran into the water.

"Fuck!" screamed James.

"Oh, my God. It’s so cold!"

The freezing water lapped at their ankles viciously and the abundance of tiny stones beneath their feet did not make the experience any more enjoyable.

"This is the worst idea we’ve ever had," said Lily.

"Worse than climbing onto the roof?"

"So much worse. Let’s get out."

Lily left the water as quickly as possible and practically jumped into her shoes, not taking the time to put her tights on. Her feet were throbbing from the stoney ground and she’d never been more grateful to wear her scruffy, scuffed old school shoes.

After a moment Lily turned and noticed James was still standing in the water, an odd expression on his face.

"You alright?" asked Lily.

"Yeah," replied James. "It’s just… I think my foot is bleeding."

"How on earth did you manage that?" said Lily.

"There might be glass in here somewhere," said James, wincing.

Lily glanced down at the water around James ankles, relieved to see no stream of blood.

"Well, don’t move. You’ll only hurt yourself more." commanded Lily.

"You’re not my mother," mocked James. Before he could realise what he’d just said, he challenged, "Anyway, how do you expect me to get out if I’m not allowed to move?"

Lily raised an eyebrow.

"Well?" said James.

With a sigh, Lily slipped out of her shoes and waded back into the water, wincing at the tiny rocks. She then turned and crouched down a little, holding out her arms as though she wanted James to jump on her back. This, incidentally, is exactly what she wanted.

"What are you doing?" asked James.

"Get on," said Lily. "If you can’t walk I’ll have to carry you. At least to the street. Then we can sit on that bench and I’ll fetch your shoes."

"You can’t carry me that far," he protested.

"Well, we’ll just have to see. Now come on. If you don’t hurry up we’ll be late."

It took three tries to situate James securely on Lily’s back. This was mainly because he was terrified of injuring her and kept getting timid at the last moment. Each crash back down into the water worsened the shooting pain in his left foot.

"Do you need me to crouch down a bit more?" she asked after the second failed attempt, wincing as James let out a small yelp of pain.

"No, I’m just worried about hurting you."

"Oh my God, just get on. If you keep jumping up and down like that my dress will be so soaked it won’t dry before the service."

James rolled his eyes but jumped up anyway. Lily buckled slightly, having not expected James to weigh as much as he did. After all, he appeared to be mostly bone.

"You okay?" said James.

Lily did not say anything, but hoisted him up further and began to make her way out of the sea.

"You’re not going to carry me all the way to the street are you?" asked James, concerned that he was already crushing his girlfriend.

"No, you’re too heavy."

When they were far enough from the water, Lily knelt to drop James onto the stony shore, making sure his feet stayed raised.

"Mind your bum," she warned.

Unfortunately, Lily did not do this as gracefully as she’d hoped she would and James landed rather quickly and harshly on his arse.

"I’m so sorry!" cried Lily, her lips twitching in amusement.

"Are you laughing?" said James.

"No."

She stared down at James, in a suit, arse on the ground with his bare feet in the air, and she could hold her laughter in no longer.

"I’m so sorry," she repeated through her laughter.

But James was laughing too. Passersby were staring, not that Lily or James cared.

"If only mum could see me now," he said. "She’d think ‘what a respectable young man I raised’"

"She’d wonder why you were making such a fuss over a cut that small," countered Lily. The glass had barely broken James’ skin. "Now, where did you leave your shoes, you twat?"

* * *

 

The service was short and incredibly polite. Only the vicar spoke. There were no emotional speeches from loved ones. It was nothing like the funerals that took place in Sowsworth, thought Lily. Half the village would turn up to those.

But James’ family was small and they didn’t have a large number of friends who lived locally. Most of them had retired abroad just like James’ parents and hadn’t been able to return in time for the funeral

In fact such a small number of people attended the funeral, limited mostly to a handful of cousins and older relatives, that Lily would have felt a complete intruder on a very private moment if James hadn’t spent the entire service squeezing her hand.

Afterwards, back at James’ house, the wake was far more personal. Mr. Potter told anecdote after anecdote of his late wife in their youth. Apparently she and James had rather a lot in common.

James himself told a rather lengthy and elaborately performed story of the time his mum had left him with his head stuck in the railings of the staircase for an entire day just to teach him a lesson about ‘sticking his head where it didn’t belong.’

"You shouldn’t have stuck your head through the railings then," said James’ cousin Kingsley through his laughter.

"It was only for twenty minutes," corrected James’ father.

James gave a dramatic shrug as if to say, "Believe what you want."

Lily found herself believing Mr. Potter. The snort Angie gave told Lily she had a similar mindset.

The following hour was filled with acquaintances dropping round bottles of wine and condolences. James seemed to be bombarded with these virtual strangers one after the other, with little time to breathe. Lily stood dutifully by James’ side during this, smiling politely when they commented on how pretty she was (which was, more often than not, a congratulations for James rather than a compliment for Lily) and made polite small talk when James was busing cleaning his glasses on his tie (which Lily guessed, quite correctly, was his way of avoiding eye contact as he tried to keep himself from crying).

When the two of them finally got a moment alone James let out a deep sigh.

"You okay?" she asked him.

"No. I just wanna go up to my room and get absolutely pissed," said James. "I really can’t be around people right now."

Lily nodded slowly, scanning the room for a full bottle of alcohol.

"Why don’t you grab that whiskey and run. I’ll cover for you," offered Lily.

"Aren’t you coming with me?"

"I thought you didn’t want to be around people?"

James let out an incredulous laugh and replied, "Yeah, but you don’t count."

They shared a small smile before James slyly grabbed the bottle of whiskey, passing it behind his back to Lily as he was cut off by his great uncle Gregory.

"Your mother was a terrific woman," said Gregory.

He’d said this to James no less than a dozen times already that evening, but Gregory was so old James was just grateful he was still alive.

When they finally escaped into the hallway they ran up the stairs so quickly they almost tripped.

Mr. Potter saw and heard almost all of this of course, but he was just happy that his son was laughing again.

* * *

 

Two thirds of a bottle later, James and Lily were lying on the bed, James’ head at Lily’s feet and vice versa.

Lily, her head propped against the pillows, was cradling the bottle and humming a Cliff Richard song.

"My mum used to be cool," said James suddenly, sitting upright. "But over the last few years she changed."

"How so?" asked Lily, taking a swig and passing the bottle to James.

"She just got really weak. Kind of timid and quiet. Fragile. I suppose that was the cancer." James shook his head solemnly. "I always thought disease made you stronger? Spiritually stronger I mean. But I guess that doesn’t always happen in real life."

"No," said Lily. "It doesn’t"

"How’s your dad?"

"Fine," she lied. "How’s yours?"

"Really sad. He thinks I hate him."

"But you don’t?"

"Of course not," snapped James, taking an enormous gulp of whiskey. "He’s an idiot though. He thought I wouldn’t want to live with him."

Lily’s hand, which had been reaching out for the bottle, froze.

"You’re gonna stay here with him?" she asked weakly.

James nodded, stretching his arm so that the bottle was passed into Lily’s inanimate hand.

"I don’t wanna talk about this anymore," he said. "Sirius said something about Remus and a cricket bat over the phone. What’s that all about?"

"I have no idea."

* * *

 

The rest of the night passed in a blur and the next clear memory either of them had was being awoken at nine o’clock the next morning by a knock of the door from Angie Potter and a call that breakfast was ready.

James never did figure out why he’d fallen asleep with his face pressed against Lily’s shins, especially when he had a perfectly good, unused pillow at the head of the bed. What was even stranger was that Lily was clutching the empty bottle of whiskey to her chest like a teddy bear which she seemed very reluctant to part with as she rolled over and went back to sleep.

"Lily," he muttered, shaking her slightly. "Wake up. There’ll be bacon."

They slunk downstairs for breakfast, still in their clothes from the night before, groaning from their headaches and unable to muster any substantial conversation beyond, "pass the sugar."

Once they were both showered and dressed, Lily felt slightly better, yet in possession of a vague recollection of an unpleasant truth. She was halfway through packing her bags as James lay on the bed reading a comic book when she brought it up.

"James," she began tentatively, sitting by his feet. He grunted in response to show that he was listening. "You’re gonna live here from now on, aren’t you?"

He tossed the comic to one side and sat upright so he could meet her eye, his face only a foot away from hers. For some reason he could only nod in response.

"I thought so. I just wanted to make sure," she said.

This was the moment, James knew, to break it off.

However, before James could muster the strength, Lily said. "So it’d probably be best if we ended things, wouldn’t it?"

"Probably," he breathed.

"But it’s a bloody shame," said Lily, her voice higher than natural as she choked back tears. "Because I really think I love you."

James felt his mouth go dry as his mind raced, looking for the exact words that might even slightly express how he felt in that moment. This proved futile and so he merely raised his hand to her pretty face, all blotchy with tears, stroking her cheek with his thumb. Then, fearing that this was all getting a little too sentimental, James let out a small laugh and ruffled Lily’s hair.

"Oi, watch it," she cried, smoothing down her hair. "I might not be your girlfriend anymore but I still have to look presentable for your family."

With a mocking tone and a strain on his heart, James replied, "Oh, please. If I’d just wanted someone to stand next to me and look pretty I’d have invited Sirius."

Lily lightly elbowed him in the ribs.

"Are you gonna go keep on with your A-levels?" inquired Lily.

"I hadn’t really thought about it."

"Would you work with your dad?"

"Oh, God," exclaimed James so suddenly, Lily jumped a little. "Sorry. It’s just… is this all we’ve got to talk about now? Tedious life plans and rubbish like that?"

Lily looked down at her shoes, the scuffs that had seemed so important that morning blurring into obscurity. She felt utterly hopeless and then she remembered something about her right arm.

"Hey, do you wanna see something weird?" she said.

"Always," said James.

Lily smiled a little, tongue between her teeth, as she tensed her right arm, leaning against the mattress.

"What are you doing?" asked James.

His question was answered in the next few seconds as Lily managed to bend her elbow in on itself. James’ eyes widened, fixed on her arm.

"That’s amazing," he said.

"I know. It really creeps Petunia out."

"How do you manage that?" he inquired, still gazing in wonder at Lily’s right elbow, which she had just straightened out once more.

"I dunno. I’ve just always been able to do it."

James nodded slowly and found his eyes meeting hers. He was filled with a sudden desire to take off his glasses and clean them on his tie so he wouldn’t have to stare into his ex-girlfriend’s face any longer. Yet, in spite of his better judgement, he continued to stare at her as she stared back, her eyes watering.

"I should probably go," said Lily finally, her voice somewhere between a croak and a whisper. "Tell your dad thanks again for having me and my train tickets and all that."

"I’ll walk you to the station," offered James.

But Lily shook her head, feeling that she needed to take some time alone to avoid crying too much in front of James.

"I’ll see you again though?" she asked.

"Yeah."

"Cool."

Blinking back tears, Lily wrapped her arm around James’ neck, bringing him into an embrace and kissing him quickly on the temple. Before James could do much in response, she released him and stood up. James stood too, feeling awkward as all he could do was watch Lily pick up the few items she’d left on the floor.

Once everything was packed, Lily slung her bag over her shoulder and mouthed, "Bye."

James raised his hand in an odd quasi-wave and the door swung shut behind her.

Lily burst through the door again a second later.

"Did you forget something?" said James.

"Yeah, are you coming to Hestia and Fabian’s wedding?"

"Yeah. Angie’s pretty excited for it. She says she’s gonna get a new hat."

"Well, then I’ll definitely see you then," she said brightly, tears still in her eyes.

"Yeah."

"Cool."

An awkward silence rose between them and James considered if he should kiss her. But before he could do so, she’d given him a parting nod and left the room once more.

This time she did not come back.

James collapsed backwards onto the bed and cradled his head in his hands. His headache had returned, stronger than ever.

 


	21. The Ugly Little Church

**Chapter Twenty-One: The Ugly Little Church**

Finding himself a little too changed to sink comfortably back into his old life in Hove, James was presented with a sudden expanse of boredom. Especially given that he wasn’t going to be admitted to the local boy’s private sixth form until March.

James managed to fill a good amount of time speaking animatedly to his father of Sowsworth and everything he’d accomplished there, leaving out certain instances involving improper use of urine and instead emphasising on his general farm-saving attempts. This kept him happy and occupied for a while, but every conversation had to end and whenever they did his mother was still dead and his life in Sowsworth was behind him.

Coincidentally or not, the day before the Sowsworth football tournament, James found himself walking past the ugly little church just down the road and saw that several notices and signs had been posted on and around the building, announcing its imminent destruction.

This filled James with a passion and determination he’d not felt for over a month.

He stayed up late that night, researching the ugly little church and designing a petition he would knock on doors the next day trying to get people to sign.

James Potter was going to stop that church being torn down if it was the last thing he ever did.

* * *

 

On the last Saturday of February, the church sponsored charity football tournament took place. It had been almost a month since James Potter had left Sowsworth and the whole event went off, in spite of his absence, without a hitch.

* * *

 

Dorcas was gratefully in charge of the face-painting stall. Not simply because it was located inside the village hall and therefore saved her from the unforgiving chill of late February, but also because Dorcas was rather passionate about face-painting.

Ever since she had been a young girl, upon first arriving at any fete or fair, she’d searched desperately for the face-painting stall. Then she would sit ecstatically as she was transformed into a fairy or a butterfly or anything that allowed her to get covered hair to chin in glitter.

Now that she was a grown up (in her own eyes anyway), she felt honoured to be given this all-important task.

During a lull, when the children had no doubt rushed off, their faces painted as various animals, to watch the Punch and Judy show, Dorcas made her way through odd stalls selling old clothes and lucky dips, and went to the kitchen to fetch herself a cup of orange squash. When she returned she saw a single person waiting in line, not a child this time but a fully grown (again, by Dorcas’ sixteen year old standards) Maureen Baddock.

"Maureen, you want your face painted?" asked Dorcas, a little incredulous.

She’d always thought that Maureen Baddock was the epitome, if such a person existed, of being too cool for face paint.

"Well, I didn’t come to decorate my own biscuit. I’ve already done that," said Maureen, holding up a digestive biscuit covered rather sloppily in pink icing, hundreds and thousands spread unevenly across the surface. "Can you make me a tiger?"

"Of course I can," scoffed Dorcas, "I’m not an amateur."

Maureen cracked a small smile before saying, "Okay then, Meadowes. Do your worst."

With that, Maureen hopped onto the stool by Dorcas’ stall and pulled a fifty pence piece from the pocket of her jacket, the price of a painted face.

"Okay, but don’t get upset if you see a little boy running around looking more like a tiger. Smaller faces are just easier to paint," said Dorcas.

"Whatever you say."

"And stop smiling. It crinkles your face."

"Stop being funny."

Dorcas stuck out her tongue and began to sponge orange paint onto Maureen’s face, humming quietly as she did so.

A couple of minutes passed without a word exchanged then, quite suddenly, Maureen let out a small laugh.

"What did I do now?" cried Dorcas, jumping back a little for fear of smudging Maureen’s new pink nose.

The woman selling old clothes looked up at the noise and tutted disapprovingly.

"Were you just humming ‘Love Will Keep Us Together’?" asked Maureen.

"Was I?" said Dorcas, a slight blush blooming in her cheeks. "It doesn’t seem likely. I barely even know that song and I definitely don’t like it."

Maureen laughed once more.

"What now?"

"I don’t know why you’re bothering to lie, Meadowes. I always thought you marched to your own drummer or whatever."

Dorcas relished in the few seconds she tricked herself into believing that this statement in fact reflected her true nature in any way.

"Although, to be fair it’s a pretty embarrassing song to be humming," said Maureen.

"Oh, it’s not that bad. It’s kind of… fun."

Maureen smiled mischievously, making Dorcas nervous.

"What now?" said Dorcas.

"I like that song too," she whispered. "Don’t tell anyone."

Dorcas giggled before reaching for the pot of pink glitter.

* * *

 

Emmeline Vance lived a few houses down the road and had been in James’ class at school. Beyond that James knew very little about her. She had always come across as very bookish, distancing herself from the main social scene and always having well informed opinions in English.

She looked very much the same as James remembered, with her skirt long and her hair neat. The one major difference was that she was sporting a rather heavy pair of black boots which caused him to suspect she’d seen that Sex Pistols interview with Bill Grundy and had been inspired to rebel against society further by dipping her toe into the world of punk.

This suspicion grew when she, after opening to door to James and reading the petition, immediately agreed to accompany him, saying, "Well, I’ve been wanting to get involved more in protests and politics so I suppose this is good practice."

Although he felt she was a little half-hearted about the cause, it was nice to have company as he went around knocking on strangers’ doors. In fact, the small talk, though usually hated venomously by James, was an almost welcome break from avoiding speaking about his dead mum with his dad.

* * *

 

It was Colin’s team that would be playing Kenneth’s in the final. Benjy tried not to be disappointed. Not that he really gave a damn about winning, but the final match felt like the perfect culmination of his new playfully competitive relationship with Kenneth.

After his last game, Benjy’s eyes sought immediately for Frank. Frank, however, was giving Alice a vigorous pep talk through the medium of snogging.

Feeling it would be improper to interrupt, he went to visit Lily at the cake stall. Lily was slicing a victoria sponge, wearing an enormous coat and a pale pink apron which clashed horribly with her dark red hair.

"Hi, Benjy. You want anything?" said Lily. 

"No I’m just bored," he admitted. "You need any help?"

"Aren’t you cold?" she asked, nodding at his skimpy football uniform.

Benjy shrugged. In fact he was completely frozen, but he wanted to watch Kenneth play the final match. Not that he’d admit it.

"How about you count how much money we’ve taken?" said Lily kindly.

It was a pointless job, but at least it was something for him to do. She suspected he felt rather bad about losing the football tournament and wanted to help distract him.

Benjy, too, knew it was pointless, but was glad of the job. Especially considering the cake stall was situated just a little over three feet from the edge of the pitch, giving him a pretty decent view of the game which had just started. Happily, he joined Lily on the other side of the table and began counting coins.

"So have you spoken to Kenneth recently?" asked Benjy with an attempt at a casual tone, watching the boy in question fail to tackle John Tuft.

"Erm, a bit," said Lily. "I mean, we’ve had to speak a lot about with planning this tournament. You know, you were there for most of it. "

Benjy did know. He’d been surprised and shamefully disappointed to see how well they got on still.

"So do you think you there’s a chance two will get back together?" he asked, forgetting to filter his anxieties for just a moment.

Lily merely blinked back at him, astonished.

"Sorry," said Benjy, meaning it. "That was probably really inappropriate. I wasn’t thinking."

"Oh, it’s not that," said Lily absently. "It’s just… the thought never crossed my mind. I mean, I didn’t break up with Kenneth because I fancied James, but I can’t pretend it didn’t factor in at all. We just weren’t a good match. Besides," Lily let out a bitter laugh, "I don’t think I’m anywhere near getting over James."

Benjy wanted to point out that Lily had barely waited for the news of her breakup with Kenneth to settle before moving onto James, but he knew that this was a whole different kind of moving on, one unimaginable to him as a boy who had yet to experience real love let alone the loss of it.

"I’m really sorry," he said once more.

Lily waved a hand to indicate the whole thing should be forgotten and Benjy felt completely inadequate beside her.

* * *

 

Dorcas was the last person left in the village hall when everything was over, having spilt a considerable amount of paint on the floor which she had to stay behind to scrub. Just as she had burst into song, the one from Cinderella which she sings while cleaning and reflected beautifully in the colourful bubbles, a teenage girl with the face of a tiger appeared.

"Oi, Meadowes," said Maureen, causing Dorcas to look up. "What are you doing here? Everyone else has packed up."

Blowing a strand of hair out of her eyes, Dorcas held up the sponge in her hand in explanation.

"Need some help?" asked Maureen.

"Really? That’d be great. I’ve only got one sponge, but you could start putting the paints back in the box for me."

Maureen started screwing on the caps of the paint pots, contemplating something. Dorcas started singing once more.

"You’re a pretty bad singer, you know?" said Maureen.

"You’re quite rude," snapped Dorcas, becoming more indignant as she heard Maureen laugh at this. "Why are you even here?"

"Oh, I was looking for you," replied Maureen calmly. "Hey, I’ve noticed you don’t didn’t get your face painted."

"Oh, I’ll do it later when I get home," said Dorcas seriously.

Maureen suppressed a smile, knowing Dorcas would only think she was making fun of her again. Instead, she offered, "Why don’t I do it for you?"

"Really?"

"Yeah. But fair warning, I’m pretty bad at anything artsy."

Maureen’s badly-applied blue eyeshadow confirmed this, but her offer appealed to Dorcas nonetheless.

"Okay," said Dorcas, getting up off her knees. "That sounds fun."

As Dorcas took her seat on the stool, Maureen picked up a random pot of paint.

"You’re going for the green?" asked Dorcas. "I mean usually I paint my face with a lot of pink. Like a fairy princess."

"Well, now you’re a frog," said Maureen, gently pushing Dorcas’ hair away from her face. "And stop smiling it crinkles your face."

* * *

 

"If I’m honest," said Emmeline as she sat down in the comfiest chair in the Potter’s library, "I thought my first experience with politics would be more exciting."

"I feel like that’s a dig at me," said James, taking the chair nearest hers and kicking off his shoes. "How was I supposed to know nobody would care about this bloody church?"

They’d spent a little over four hours knocking on doors and gathered about eight signatures, including his own and Emmeline’s. Half the people they asked had no clue which church ‘St. John’s’ was and when they explained it was the ugly little one down the road they all had a look about them which said, "Why on earth would I want to save that eyesore?"

"Well, it is pretty horrible," said Emmeline, eyeing the overflowing bookshelves with something akin to desire.

"Yeah," agreed James, smiling to himself.

If Lily was here, James thought, she’d properly take the piss out of him. Conditioned to keep thoughts like these, ones that made it seem as though he sorely missed Sowsworth, to himself to save his father from worrying he was the reason for his sons misery, James didn’t say any of this out loud.

Then, realising he was in the comfortable company of a virtual stranger, he said fondly, "You know if my girlfriend was here she’d properly take the piss out of me."

"Well, that’s not very nice," voiced Emmeline with a frown.

"Oh, no, not like that," James began to explain, but gave up.

They fell into an awkward silence before suddenly James said, "Ex. She’s my ex-girlfriend. I keep forgetting that."

"How long were you together?" asked Emmeline, out of politeness more than anything, assuming correctly that this was topic James wanted to explore further.

"Oh," James thought for a moment before answering, "Two months. Around that. Weird. It felt a lot longer."

"So was it wasn’t that serious? With your girlfriend, I mean," said Emmeline. Adding, upon seeing the bewildered look on James’ face, "Just because you said you were only together for two months."

"I don’t really know what you mean by serious to be honest. It didn’t feel very serious until the end when everything got all morbid. Before then it was just… fun."

"So if it wasn’t serious what was it?"

"I don’t know," said James, picking at a loose thread in his jeans, distractedly "Nice. It was really nice."

James looked over to Emmeline, expecting a solemn nod, a slight confirmation that she sympathised with his pain, understood the importance of his relationship with Lily from his simple phrasing, but she was flicking through a book she’d picked up from the table beside her. Perhaps if he’d used some sort of metaphor involving a green light or stars crossing Emmeline would have stayed interested.

He was then filled with a sudden urge to get Emmeline out of his house so he could ring Lily and have a proper conversation.

* * *

 

In the end, Dorcas ended up looking more like the Wicked Witch of the West in a low budget production of the Wizard of Oz than a frog. Still, she found the results highly entertaining and, after parting ways with Maureen Baddock, thought she’d try and scare.

When Mary answered her front door she did not even bat an eyelid, which disappointed Dorcas greatly. She did, however, welcome Dorcas into the kitchen and made her a cup of tea.

Before Mary could explain her day manning the tombola stall, Colin marched into the kitchen in search of a packet of crisps.

"Hi, Colin," said Dorcas in a broken, quiet voice. But still, loudly enough so that he heard.

Colin left the room without saying a word, yet found the time to give Dorcas a brief look of reproach. This caused Dorcas to come over very embarrassed and start absent-mindedly picking at the paint on her face.

"Listen, Mare," she said weakly, pushing her still-hot cup of tea away. "I think I’m gonna go home and de-frog myself."

Mary barely waited for the front door to close behind Dorcas before she stormed upstairs to Colin’s room and pounded on the door. He opened looking confused and irritated.

"What is it?" he demanded of her.

"Why are you such a little shit?" said Mary, pushing past him into his room.

Colin closed the door warily, watching his sister perch on the edge of his bed; arms folded and scowl in place. He remembered this look from when he was a child. It was the look his mum used to give him when he tried to make Mary eat mud pies. Even though it was his baby sister glaring at him and not his long dead mother, Colin still felt compelled to appease her in any way possible and sat in his desk chair, facing her and waiting to be scolded.

"Why do you have to be so rude to Dorcas?" she asked.

At her words, Colin hardened and immediately wanted to chuck her out of his room regardless of her resemblance to their mother.

"Oh, please. She started it," he snapped.

"How?"

"She…" Colin trailed off, embarrassed, then eventually he said, "She laughed at me."

Mary scoffed, "I’m sorry, Colin, but if you don’t want a girl to laugh at you don’t just whip your penis out."

Colin’s eyes widened in an expression of genuine shock.

"I did what?" he asked.

"You didn’t whip your penis out?"

"No!"

"Well, then why did she laugh at you?" said Mary sceptically.

"I don’t know. You tell me. One minute she was asking me if she was prettier than Maureen Baddock, who isn’t even that good looking she’s pretty much just got her tits going for her," Colin pressed on ignoring Mary’s look of disapproval at his words, "Then I started to kiss her and she wouldn’t stop laughing."

"Are you that bad?"

"Oh, piss off. She’s the one who acted like a twat. Not me."

"It still seems like an overreaction to me," said Mary. "Just because she kept laughing doesn’t mean you should just ignore her forever."

But Mary knew that, even though her brother was a complete twat, ignoring someone was nowhere near as much an overreaction as telling half the village a bloke had whipped his cock out on you when no such thing had happened. If Colin was telling the truth, that was.

* * *

 

It was around the time the Evans’ family usually finished dinner when the phone rang. Jill Evans was alone in the kitchen with the washing up and waited for the familiar sound of her daughter’s arguing. No argument was heard, however, and shortly Petunia joyfully entered the kitchen and picked up the phone.

"Hello?" said Petunia.

Her smile faded and her eyes narrow before she said, rather curtly, "Just a second I’ll get her."

Petunia disappeared and a minute later, after a brief conversation Jill only heard mumbles of, Lily appeared and picked up the phone from the counter.

"James?" she asked, her distorted in confusion.

"So what is it about punk that draws you in?" It was indeed James. "Do you feel like it’s the only music that speaks to your angry soul?"

Lily’s heart lurched forwards at the sound of his voice, sending her into a mixed state of mild panic and complete joy.

"Is everything okay?" she said.

James ignored her question and continued, "So what is it that fuels this anger? Is it your unfortunate red hair or your small boobs?"

Lily bit her lip, trying to stop herself smiling. James was trying to make her laugh, she knew, but she refused to be drawn in, suspecting something was terribly wrong.

"I’m fine, Lily. I promise. I’ve just been thinking a lot about where all your unpleasant punk anger comes from."

This soothed her and she allowed herself a smile.

"I think the anger mostly comes from this bloke I know who really grates on me," she replied, aware that she was flirting and finding herself not caring all that much.

"Who’s that then? Remus?" asked James.

"How’d you know?"

"Lily, guess what I did today."

"Grew a chest hair?"

"Don’t be daft. No, I tried to save this ugly old church from being torn down."

"Why?"

"I’ve got no idea. It’s really really ugly and no one ever goes," he admitted.

"So, did you manage to save the ugly church?"

"Nah, I failed miserably. How was the football tournament?"

They carried on speaking for about an hour or so, contently unaware of the passing of time. Jill had finished the washing up long ago.

Around the time Lily had finished describing Stebbins’ exact facial expression when he missed the goal for the fifth time in a row, Petunia burst into the kitchen and complained that she needed to call Vernon’s sister to talk about bridesmaids’ dresses.

"Listen, I’ve got to go," said Lily. "It was nice hearing from you."

This was all she could say with Petunia hovering miserably at her shoulder.

She heard him laugh nervously but before Lily could hear James’ reply, Petunia had hung up the phone on Lily’s behalf, using her bony forefinger.

"I hate you," said Lily coolly, passing over the phone.

"I thought you two had broken up," snapped Petunia. "You can’t sit on the phone to your ex all night. It’s pathetic."

"What would you know about break ups? You’re marrying the first bloke who asked."

* * *

 

Remus, Sirius, and Peter planned to meet Mundungus Fletcher the next morning after church. Remus got a few odd looks during the service given that he had a plastic cricket bat resting on his lap. Sirius was stared at a little more, however, because he wasn’t exactly known for frequenting church. The handful of old women who made it a habit to cook him dinner were thankful to see him there, hoping his soul was on the way to being saved. Perhaps they were right, in a way, because in contrast to his two companions, Sirius was feeling a slight sense of guilt over their plan.

Near the end of the sermon, Reverend Macdonald spoke about the football tournament, happily announcing that it had been a wild success and that the church was planning on donating a considerable amount of the money to the Prewett farm, a staple of Sowsworth society.

Remus, Sirius, and Peter all glanced at the back of Mundungus’ head (another infrequent church attendee), thinking of how he’d react when they explained he wasn’t getting any of that money.  Remus hoped he wouldn’t have to use the cricket bat.

"Are you sure this isn’t completely immoral?" asked Sirius.

Remus shrugged, fiddling with the bat in his lap, and reasoned, "It’s for charity."

"Anyway you’re not one to talk," whispered Peter from Sirius’ other side. "You threatened to kill Snape."

Sirius snorted, "That bugger deserved worse. But Dung’s not a bad sort."

"It’s for a good cause," said Remus firmly.

Sirius wasn’t sure who Remus was trying to reassure, Sirius or himself. Certainly not Peter who was, for once, free of any nervous perspiration.

 


	22. The Pretty Little Church

**Chapter Twenty-Two: The Pretty Little Church**

March passed in much the same way that February had ended, with the only noteworthy events being James’ continuing boredom with the south coast and Lily privately wishing James would call again, though he never did. The month of silence between Lily and James had created a spark of anxiety in both of them. As the day of Hestia and Fabian’s wedding dawned, this spark had grown into a full blown panic.

"But what am I supposed to say to him?" asked Lily of Mary and Dorcas once again.

She had made quite a habit of fussing over how she should greet James to which Dorcas usually offered unhelpful advice.

The morning of the wedding, as the three girls got ready together in Lily’s bedroom, Dorcas said, "You should make your cleavage more obvious as a conversation starter."

"Cas, James has seen my boobs before," replied Lily, solemnly looking down at her chest. "Besides I don’t think that’s the kind of conversation I want to start with my ex."

"Why don’t you say ‘hello’?" suggested Mary.

"Why is that all you ever suggest?" asked Dorcas.

"Because it’s sane," said Mary.

James himself did not voice his concerns to his father as the two of them drove through the countryside towards Sowsworth. He did, however, find himself unable to stop running his hands through his hair. Kieran Potter recognised this as a sign of stress and tried to lift the mood by humming along to the Boney M. song that was blasting from the car radio.

* * *

 

Regulus was woken that morning by the sound of his mother screaming profanities. Groggy and desperately wanting a cup of tea, Regulus rolled out of bed to see what the commotion was. If the housekeeper was in trouble he’d have to make his own tea so he hoped it was Sirius getting the discipline.

Fortunately for Regulus, as he stood in the doorway of the living room, he saw his mother yelling at his older brother.

Walburga Black’s face was flushed and clenched in rage, Regulus could not remember a time he’d seen her more furious. Sirius stood with his back straight, wearing a suit and a carefree expression which barely concealed the true agitation underneath.

"You are tarnishing the Black family name," cried Walburga.

"What, by going to a wedding?" sneered Sirius. "Believe me, our family’s reputation of being classist pricks who love the smell of their own shit will stay in tack. You and dad’ll see to that."

Walburga picked up a small and garish ornate glass swan, throwing it at Sirius. Her aim was so fantastic that if Sirius had not ducked, it would have been his head the thing had shattered against instead of the wall behind him.

Then Regulus saw something he’d never witnessed before, terror in his brother’s eyes. Filled with unfamiliar emotion himself, Regulus retreated back to his room, thinking he could probably wait for a cup of tea.

* * *

 

Returning to Sowsworth was odd, thought James as the car entered the village. He tried to remember the first time he’d seen the place, his mother beside him, already weak, with her guilt over leaving her son in the dark and in the middle of nowhere battling with her desire to experience more of the world before she died. She could’ve told him. Then, or any other moment before she left the country. If he’d been rattled with the knowledge of his mother’s likely and imminent death he might not have set a fire in the headmistress’ office and royally embarrassed himself, making him feel the need to conjure up lies about Angie letting him impregnate imaginary girls. 

"James," said Mr. Potter softly. "We’re here."

James broke out of his daze and realised they were outside his aunt’s house. His mother was, naturally, absent.

"Brilliant," said James dryly.

* * *

 

As he made his way down Church Street with his aunt and father, James spotted Lily, Dorcas, and Mary almost immediately. Lily was wearing a pretty pale blue dress which was cut just so the freckles on her chest were visible. James both thanked and cursed every known deity for allowing Lily to look that lovely when he was still hopelessly head over heels for her. If only she’d borrowed one of her sister’s dresses.

The three girls were lingering between a couple of gravestones. Mary and Lily appeared to be trying to convince Dorcas that her hair looked fine and that they should just go and sit down inside. Their voices grew audible as James entered the graveyard himself.

"Are you sure it looks okay?" asked Dorcas, fidgeting with her high, tight bun. "I think it makes me look like my mum."

"Cas, you do realise people will probably be paying more attention to the bride than to you, right? I mean obviously about forty percent of the attention will be on your hair, but most of it will still go to the bride," said Lily.

James chuckled and Lily span around.

"Hi," she said breathlessly, looking up at James.

They stood two feet apart.

"Oh, hi," he replied.

Angie took her brother’s arm and guided him into the church to leave the two ex-lovers alone together for a moment. Mary tried to do the same to Dorcas, but Dorcas did not pick up on this.

"James!" cried Dorcas. "How have you been?"

Before James could attempt a response, he was distracted by a figure running through the gate to the graveyard and up the path.

"Sirius?" said James with a questioning tone, although there was nobody else it could be; every inch of him so familiar.

"Oh, good I’m not late," said Sirius, coming to a stop beside his four friends and trying to catch his breath.

It was then that James noticed the cut on Sirius’ cheek and the overflowing bag on his shoulder.

"Are you alright?" asked Lily.

"Oh, yeah. I just ran away from home," replied Sirius casually. "Shall we go sit down?"

* * *

 

With the bride set to arrive in less than ten minutes, any further conversation was forced to wait. Lily avoided having to sit next to James, certain it would be far too awkward to sit next to your ex-boyfriend during a wedding. Unfortunately, she had gotten stuck sitting behind him in such a way that she would not be able to observe the ceremony without also observing the back of his head.

There was no time for her to beg Dorcas, who was still fidgeting with her bun, to swap seats with her though, because the wedding had begun.

Hestia Jones looked like a classic beauty as she walked down the aisle. Her dress was modest and lacey and stunning.

The wedding itself was traditional and impersonal, but the way that Fabian beamed at his soon-to-be wife was enough to make up for it all.

Lily sorely wished she wasn’t forced to stare at the back of James’ head, unable to suppress memories of the times she’d run her hands through his wild hair whenever they’d kissed or whenever she’d wanted to wind him up. The other unwelcome memories which appeared desperate to resurface were the times Lily had daydreamed about marrying James in this very church, wearing a dress not too dissimilar to the one Hestia wore, hoping James would smile at her in the way Fabian smiled at Hestia.

Lily was saved from her painful reminiscing with the distraction of Dorcas suddenly reaching up and pulling her hair out of its bun.

As Reverend Macdonald told Fabian he could now kiss his bride, Peter Pettigrew, from some odd corner of the church, broke into a coughing fit. In an attempt to make himself as quiet as possible, Peter stood up, forcing his way past those between him and the edge of the pew. He then hurried to the back of the church, accidentally knocking over a few candle sticks. This created a noise so much louder than his coughing it was likely heard from the houses down the street.

The guests tried to keep their concentration fixed on the bride and groom kissing chastely at the front of the church rather than the commotion Peter had caused.

That was when a dozen rocks were hurled through the church windows from all sides.

* * *

 

Certainly Hestia and Fabian had not dreamt that their wedding ceremony would end with shattered glass.

James, Sirius, Kenneth Pritchard and Gideon Prewett had run out of the church after the vandals, Remus following as quickly as he dared. The forms of six teenagers could be seen rounding the corner at the end of the street, too far to be pursued. They’d never be caught.

"I recognised Mulciber," said Kenneth.

"And my brother," spat Sirius.

* * *

 

As everyone else got ready for the party, the groom’s family, the bride, and Reverend Macdonald stayed in the church, shivering slightly at the breeze attacking them from all sides due to the newly broken windows.

The Prewetts, including Molly Weasley with her three children and gangly ginger husband in tow, spent a good twenty minutes arguing with the Reverend. Walter Macdonald was adamant that the Prewetts kept the money the church had raised for them. However, the Prewetts themselves were having none of this and were determined to pay for the damage caused.

"It wasn’t your fault," said Walter.

"But it was the church’s money," reasoned Mr. Prewett.

"And the church donated it to your family."

"And we’re rejecting the donation," said Gideon firmly.

"How about we discuss this in the morning? This is supposed to be a wedding after all," said Walter, smiling kindly at Hestia who was leaning backwards against her new husband, his arms wrapped tightly around her, both of them looking, understandably, shaken.

"Besides," Walter reassured the Prewetts. "It won’t cost nearly as much as you think to replace the windows. Your farm will be fine."

* * *

 

The evening festivities took place in the village hall, which had been done up to the point that it looked almost respectable. Although, Petunia would’ve had a heart attack if her evening venue ended up resembling the hall in any way, decorated or not. Hestia and Fabian were far shorter on money and cared far less, if not at all, about putting on any false middle class airs.

With a decent amount of free alcohol donated by the Griffin, the owner of which was a good friend of the Jones family, and dance music blaring, the whole window smashing incident was quickly put to the back of everyone’s mind.

Lily had wanted to find James after the ceremony, but he had disappeared with Sirius and his aunt before she’d gotten the chance. They hadn’t returned until the party was in full swing.

"Where’ve you been?" asked Remus, rushing over to meet them by the sausage rolls.

"Sirius is going to live with me now," announced Angie.

"Not for long," added Sirius.

"For as long as he wants," said Angie, giving Sirius a pointed look.

James ate four sausage rolls in succession before they were joined by Peter who nervously suggested they should dance. The four boys found Lily, Dorcas, and Mary on the dance floor, while Angie went to find her brother who was deep in conversation with Caradoc Dearborn.

Hestia looked a little awkward trying to keep up with Fabian’s frantic dancing as Gloria Jones’ Tainted Love pounded through the speakers.

Fabian’s dancing, however, turned out to be nothing in comparison to James and Dorcas’. Remus, Peter, and Mary were attempting to get Sirius to do the hustle with them, but Sirius refused and started to waltz with Lily instead.

Over Sirius’ shoulder, Lily could see James hold out his hand to Dorcas and watched the two of them flail around the dance floor together in a possible attempt at the Charleston. Lily almost fell into Sirius from laughing so hard.

James noticed and gave Lily a quick wink before turning his attention back to Dorcas, twirling her under his arm.

* * *

 

As the night wore on, the dancing grew tired and the music grew slower. Dorcas was half asleep on Remus’ shoulder as they swayed to Sailing. Kenneth had joined them and was doing a slow kind of mock-ballet with Benjy, Peter and James. Frank was off in the corner snogging Alice, while Sirius stole a whole bottle of rum from the table Alice was supposed to be supervising. Lily and Mary were moving from side to side as slowly as possible, watching the others. Lily’s heels had been discarded in a corner long ago.

Watching James make a complete fool of himself on the dance floor, Lily was forced to face the tight feeling that had been in her chest since she’d seen him that morning in the graveyard.

With enough alcohol in her system to give her the courage, Lily strolled over to James and tapped his shoulder.

"Can we talk?" she asked, biting her lip, already regretting the question.

"Sure," replied James with a casual tone and a less-than casual look in his eye.

Lily visibly relaxed and pointed towards the door in indication that this conversation should probably continue outside.

Half the guests had wandered home half-drunk by this point. Even the bride and groom had vanished after Hestia had arrogantly consumed about triple the amount of alcohol she was used to and fallen asleep in a chair.

Due to this, Lily and James were able to slip out of the hall without drawing too much attention.

* * *

 

James had left his suit jacket inside and his white shirt sleeves were rolled up. For some reason Lily wanted to wrap her arms around his chest and have him hold her tightly in his skinny arms.

"Are you alright?" asked James, noticing that Lily, tipsy and swaying was staring at the spot between his nipples with an eerily serious expression.

He couldn’t help but glance down to check everything was in order.

"I’m fine," she said, blinking out of her stupor and staring up into his eyes.

Lily suddenly realised she was probably a lot more intoxicated than she had previously thought and perhaps this had been a terrible idea.

"So it’s nice to see nothing changes around here," said James, breaking the silence.

"You mean the violence and drama? There was actually none of that while you were gone."

"So I’m the problem am I?"

"I’m afraid so."

James let out an awkward laugh and took and leant back against the wall of the village hall.

"Nah, the Richies were always cocks," said Lily, leaning beside him.

James snorted. The stony path made Lily’s bare feet throb.

"Hey, do you remember when you cut your foot in the sea?" asked Lily suddenly.

"I do," replied James.

James had consumed far less alcohol than Lily and was understandably confused about what was going on.

Lily’s thought process then skipped from feet to the village hall.

"We first met in there," she said, gesturing to the building she was leaning her head against.

"Yeah, we did," said James, smiling. "If I remember correctly, you didn’t like me very much."

"No, but I did fancy you a bit," confessed Lily.

"I don’t blame you."

Lily wacked James on the arm before continuing, "And I like you now."

"I should hope so."

"James," she said, staring down at her feet and thinking her toenails needed a good trimming. "Do you think we made a mistake breaking up?"

James swallowed hard and took a few moments before he replied.

"Sometimes," he admitted. "But I do think we made the smart choice."

"I don’t," said Lily rather forcefully, looking up at James pleadingly.

Desperately not wanting to cry, Lily bit down hard on her lip once more.

"Lily," began James, slowly. "I think I should take you home."

Lily nodded slowly.

"Okay," she replied. "Cool."

"Come on," said James, offering his arm for her to lean on as they walked.

Shaking her head, she said, "No, I can go myself."

James watched as Lily half skipped across the village green away from him, her bare feet getting covered in dirt. He threw his head back against the wall so hard he felt the impact in his knobbly knees.

* * *

 

Lily was sitting cross-legged on her bedroom floor, sobbing, to her embarrassment, when Dorcas and Mary found her. As Dorcas slammed the door open and entered the room, Lily’s cat Brutus bolted from its place on her lap. Lily held out a half-hearted hand as if to say ‘don’t go’, but Brutus had already jumped out of the window.

"Oh," whined Lily, falling sideways onto the floor and hitting her shoulder on a discarded lipstick.

"What’s wrong, Lily?" asked Mary, rushing into the room and kneeling beside her friend.

Dorcas followed, clutching the heels Lily had left behind.

"Did something happen with James?"

Lily nodded, the carpet rubbing against her face uncomfortably.

"Okay, I know how to deal with this," said Dorcas suddenly, dropping the shoes and disappearing from the room.

Tears were still streaming down Lily’s face as Mary pulled her upright.

"What happened?"

Then, quite unexpectedly, still crying, Lily started laughing.

"Oh, Mare, I was so stupid," cried Lily, hiccoughing due to her laugh-crying. "I told James I thought breaking up was a mistake. And then do you know what he did?"

"Pissed on or in something?"

Lily let out a loud laugh between hiccoughs and said, "He offered to walk me home."

"Oh, sweetie."

Dorcas returned holding a cup of tea and packet of rich tea biscuits.

"You didn’t have any chocolate biscuits, which I think is disgraceful, so these will have to do," announced Dorcas.

* * *

 

Despite Sirius being adamant that James and his father should take the spare bed while he slept in the living room, Mr. Potter was fast asleep on the sofa when he and James finally arrived back at the house.

"Tonight was fun," said Sirius as he and James changed into their pyjamas. "Almost made me forget my whole family’s made up of scum."

James chuckled absently, taking his glasses off and putting on an old t-shirt.

"What’s wrong?" asked Sirius.

James grimaced.

"What is it?" said Sirius, getting a little worried.

"I think I just turned Lily down."

"What do you mean?"

"She said she didn’t think breaking up was the right choice," explained James. "And then I said I should probably take her home."

Sirius let out a low whistle. "That’s harsh mate," he said.

"I was trying to be nice!" cried James.

"Well that was stupid.We both know you’re rubbish at that."

James glared at Sirius, pulling the duvet back rather violently and climbing under it.

"Oh, don’t get all grumpy with me," said Sirius, climbing in beside him. "Come on, James. Spill your heart out to me. Why, oh why, did you reject the glorious Lily Evans?"

"I didn’t want to," he groaned. "But I don’t live here anymore. I mean, what are we gonna do? Keep in touch over the phone? She’s better off finding someone new."

"Do you think you’re better off finding someone new?"

"Probably not. Everyone annoys the hell out of me."

"Okay," said Sirius before turning off the bedside lamp and throwing them into darkness.

He knew this was not a topic James wanted pursued and so they lay there, trying to fall asleep in silence.

* * *

 

The village of Sowsworth woke to the rather unsettling news that St. Albus’ church had been set on fire during the night.


	23. Completely Hideous in Pink

**Chapter Twenty Three: Completely Hideous in Pink**

James left Sowsworth the morning after the wedding in low spirits. Not only was he burdened with the memory of Lily’s expression before she had fled from him the night before, but he was also faced with the news that the church had been severely damaged in a fire. This meant, almost certainly, that the Prewetts would return all the money that the church had donated to them and allow their farm to be taken away from them.

This, in spite of Fabian’s protests, was exactly what his family did.

"So we’re just giving up?" said Fabian softly over a late breakfast. "It’s not too late to raise more money."

Hestia, in spite of recently becoming a resident of the Prewett farm herself, felt as though this was a subject she had no business weighing in on. Instead, she attempted to give her new husband a comforting look while simultaneously swallowing an absurd amount of porridge to prevent her from having to respond if he tried to worm an opinion out of her.

"Any money this village raises needs to go to the church," said Mrs. Prewett sternly. "Now eat your toast."

"It’s not about giving up. It’s about picking your battles," sighed Mr. Prewett.

"Why can’t the damn Richies pay. They’re the ones who set the fire," muttered Fabian bitterly.

"There’s no evidence of that though is there?" replied his father in a tired voice.

"Enough of this. Have you rung Mr. Malfoy yet?" asked Mrs. Prewett of her husband.

Fabian gritted his teeth. Their landlord, Mr. Malfoy, was by far the most unpleasant man he’d ever encountered in his life. It’d been a joyous day for many when the whole Malfoy family had packed up for Kent, but now they were being called up and told they could finally let Mr. Mulciber build his bloody golf course.

Hestia gulped down half a cup of tea as she waited for the tension to dissipate.

* * *

 

Sirius would have been lying if he’d said he hadn’t wanted to run into Regulus. Thankfully, Angie hadn’t specifically asked if he was using going to retrieve his motorbike as an excuse to punch his little brother in the face. He’d have hated to lie to Angie after all she’d done for him.

However, during the entire journey to and from Hangleton Road, even with his motorbike revving, Sirius did not draw the attention of a single person, let alone Regulus.

* * *

 

On Monday morning, Lily and Kenneth were both late for History. Kenneth had become distracted by Benjy suggesting a small game of football, and Lily had gotten caught up in her latest copy of Jackie. These circumstances meant that when the two of them arrived, all the seats had been filled and they were forced to sit on the empty table right in front of Binns’ desk.

Lily smiled warmly at her ex-boyfriend, acutely aware that they hadn’t been forced to spend this much time in exclusively each other’s company since their breakup. Of course Binns was right there, but he interacted so little with the class he might as well have been a ghost. The students were already in deep conversation with each other, making Kenneth and Lily feel completely isolated.

"How are you?" he asked conversationally, taking a seat while leaving an empty one between them.

"I’m fine," she said. "You?"

"I’m good. Hey did you hear what happened with Stebbins and the school bins?"

Lily frowned curiously, asking, "No, what happened?"

"Well, you know how he dropped out," Kenneth began to explain.

The conversation flowed easily between them for the lesson and Lily was thankful for it. It was nice speaking with Kenneth like this again. They’d gotten on so well, it would have been a shame if they’d gone their separate ways forever.

"Hey," said Kenneth under his breath, as though not wanting anyone to overhear.

This was rather pointless as the lesson had just ended and everyone was making their way out rather quickly and noisily. Lily waited behind to hear what Kenneth had to say.

"I haven’t really seen you, so I never got a chance to say," he began earnestly, "But I was really sorry to hear about you and James. I thought you were good together."

"Oh, thanks," said Lily, a little awkwardly, but honestly all the same.

Then she was filled with a sudden need to say something to Kenneth that she’d wanted to for a long time.

"Listen, I’m sorry you had to see me and James together so soon. It wasn’t very decent of me."

"It’s fine," said Kenneth, waving a hand dismissively. "I’d have done the same."

"Gone out with James?" joked Lily.

Kenneth laughed nervously and went a little pink in the cheeks.

"What I mean is if I’d liked someone as much as you like James, I wouldn’t have waited to get together with them. I’m glad you didn’t."

"Thanks."

"See you around, Lily," said Kenneth, leaving Lily alone in the now empty classroom.

Now she felt awful for thinking him boring. He was a bit, but still, he was just so nice.

* * *

 

Sirius spent his lunch time hunting down his younger brother. The Richies had abandoned their usual spot behind the school and so Sirius had a bit of trouble finding him.

Around halfway through lunch, Sirius noticed noises coming from one of the art classrooms and peered through the small window in the door. Inside were just the people he was looking for.

"Fantastic," he muttered to himself, barging in.

"Regulus, I have some family business to discuss with you," Sirius called out in a sing-song voice.

Ascella scowled at him from between Mulciber and Avery. The three of them were lounging on a table as Snape scribbled notes in a chemistry text book.

"Not you, cousin," said Sirius to Ascella. "Just my brother."

Regulus leapt down from the window sill he had perched himself on and followed Sirius into the corridor.

"What’s this about?" asked Regulus.

No reply was provided.

Once Sirius had led his brother a reasonable distance he spun around and threw Regulus against a wall.

"What is your problem?" cried Regulus.

"You think it’s funny to set fire to a church do you?" spat Sirius.

"What? Why would I set fire to a church?"

Sirius scoffed, pulling Regulus away from the wall before slamming him backwards once more.

"You think we did that?" said Regulus. "What proof have you got?"

"I saw you running away. You threw those rocks," Sirius sneered.

"I threw a couple of rocks, yeah, but I didn’t start a fire," said Regulus firmly, slipping out of Sirius’ grip and shoving him back. "Why don’t you have a bit more faith in your family?"

Sirius let out a cruel bark of laughter, before replying, "Why don’t you give me a reason to?"

Regulus glared at Sirius as he walked away, back down the corridor to his friends.

"What did that miserable bastard want?" asked Ascella.

"That absolute cock accused us of starting the fire in the church," cried Regulus indignantly, sprawling out across an empty table.

Snape stopped writing rather suddenly and shared a look with Mulciber.

Ascella picked up on this immediately ad said softly, but coldly, "Oh, Regulus, I think if you ask these two," she nodded at Snape and Mulciber in turn, "You’ll find we did."

Regulus sat bolt upright.

"What? You didn’t, did you?"

"Who else?" said Snape calmly, returning to his notes.

* * *

 

James’ lunch was far less entertaining. It mostly involved football with the friends he’d managed to effortlessly scrape together over the past month. He wasn’t overly fond of any of them. They were all incredibly posh and very bad at football, always suggesting sailing at the weekend.

As James prepared to score another easy goal, something hit him: this was boring.

So, without further thought, he wandered away from the ball, picked up his bag from the side of the pitch and walked the school.

In fact he kept walking, stopping only to drop off his bag at home and write a quick note for his dad, all the way to the train station.

* * *

 

Besides Lily, Petunia was to have two more bridesmaids in her wedding party, and so she invited them (Vernon’s sister Marge and her friend Sheryl) over to the house to try on the dresses she’d selected for them to wear.

The four women stood cramped in Petunia’s hideously floral and lacey bedroom, gazing at the three dresses hung up on the curtain rail. Lily was trying her hardest to keep a straight face.

They were just so awful. So awful, in fact, that Lily had trouble deciding which aspect was the most offensive.

To begin with they were pale pink (as if purposefully chosen to make Lily look as terrible as possible being the only ginger bridesmaid). Then there were the sleeves, puffier than any sleeve ever need be, made of a net-like material which also spread across the chest and ruffled at the neck. The worst part though, Lily concluded, was all the bows.

"They’ll do nicely," said Marge briskly, sounding rather like her brother in both tone and voice.

She even looked like Vernon.

Sheryl’s reaction involved a lot of tears and blubbering about how she couldn’t believe Petunia was finally getting married and how the bridesmaid dresses were exactly how they’d dream they’d be.

Lily didn’t dare imagine what other dreams Sheryl and Petunia had shared.

"What do you think Lily?" asked Sheryl once her sobbing had ceased.

Petunia shot Lily a look, warning her not to say anything that might ruin this precious moment.

"I think," voiced Lily tentatively. "They’re absolutely perfect for Petunia’s wedding."

"Oh, I agree," said Sheryl.

"Shall we try them on then?" said Petunia loudly, drowning out the chance of Lily make another, less tactful, comment.

* * *

 

Due to getting rather lost on the long walk from the train station, James didn’t arrive at his destination until early evening.

As James walked up the drive to Lily’s front door, the adrenalin that had filled James since that morning, fuelling his journey all the way to Wiltshire began to fuel far less pleasant things such as sweat and nausea.

He wiped a clammy hand on his trousers before ringing the doorbell.

Bickering could be heard from the window above James’ head. Finally he heard Petunia say, "Lily," threateningly and then a succession of heavy footsteps on stairs which he recognised as Lily’s.

Taking a deep breath, he waited for the front door to open. He’d gone over what he was going to say dozens of times on the train journey, but as soon as Lily appeared before him, all memory of this vanished.

"James?" said Lily, reasonably shocked. "What are you doing here?"

"What the hell are you wearing?" he cried, gesturing to the garish pink frock she had on.

Lily sighed, "It’s my bridesmaid’s dress."

"Why?" said James.

"I think Petunia was aiming to make me look as ugly as possible."

"Well, she did a pretty good job."

"James, did you just come here to insult my outfit?" said Lily impatiently.

"Oh, no," replied James, shaking his head as if trying to clear his mind. "I wanted to talk to you."

Lily stared at James for a moment as if deciding something. James panicked slightly. He hadn’t imagined Lily might turn him away before he even got a chance to speak, but now that felt like a very real and terrifying possibility.

"Petunia," called Lily, leaning back into her house and directing her voice towards the staircase. "I’m going out for a little bit. I’ll be back later."

James heard Petunia begin to run from her room to the stairs shouting about how Lily needed to get changed first so as not to ruin the dress, but Lily had already slammed the door, rolled her eyes, and begun following James towards the street before Petunia had a chance to stop her.

"Even if I tore this dress in half I couldn’t ruin it. It’s already the worst dress in the world; any changes would be an improvement," muttered Lily venomously.

Still, in spite of Lily’s words, she picked used one hand to grip the skirt of the dress so that the hem would stay above her ankles and safe from any wild dirt. Her feet were bare.

"You forgot your shoes," said James awkwardly.

"Oh yeah," replied Lily. "I keep doing that. I blame you."

She let out an odd forced laugh before asking, "James, what are you doing here?"

"We should sit down," he said once they reached the village green.

He laid his jacket on the grass so Lily could sit cross-legged without worrying about staining the dress. Then, James knelt down next to her, a comfortable distance between them.

"So I’ve been thinking about what you said to me," said James, trying to look directly at Lily, but finding himself distracted by the sleeves of her dress more often than not.

Lily, staring directly into James’ eyes, said, "Listen, you don’t need to explain yourself. I get why your answer was… what it was."

"Look, that’s not what I wanna say. Just let me speak before you go making any more assumptions."

"Okay," she agreed with a slight nod.

The sun was setting and a slight breeze caused Lily to shiver. James made to put his arm around her, but then thought better of it.

"So I haven’t really been myself since I found out my mum was gonna die," James began.

"I know," said Lily kindly.

"Oi, let me finish," he said, sticking his tongue out.

"Sorry."

"Anyway, I haven’t been the same since any of the stuff that happened with my mum. I think I suddenly felt like… like I had to be a grown up. And to me that meant not asking for what I really wanted. Believe it or not, I was a pretty spoilt child."

"I really believe that."

James let out a small laugh before pressing on, "My parents have always given me whatever I wanted. Then, all of a sudden, one of my parents was gone and I felt almost responsible for the other one. And all of this meant, for me, that I didn’t get to get my way anymore. Because I had to be a grown up."

"James, that’s ridiculous. You’re not responsible for your dad. He wouldn’t want you to feel like that either."

"I know," he said quickly. "And that’s what I’ve realised. I kind of resigned myself to letting my life just happen. I thought I had to live in Hove and make new friends and forget all about you."

James took a deep breath and continued, "But that’s not me. I’m a twat, not a grown up. I go for what I want without thinking about the consequences. So basically, the point to all of this, is that I’m not gonna be passive anymore. I’m gonna go for what I want."

Lily’s breath hitched in her chest, a pleasant burning sensation arising.

"And what I want more than anything at the moment," said James, "Is to be with you. So I think that that should happen… if you’re okay with it," he finished awkwardly.

"I might be," she replied, the beginnings of a smile twitching at the corner of her mouth.

"Cool," he said.

James grinned so widely Lily couldn’t help but lean forwards, take his head in her hands and kiss him. James, with incredible gusto, kissed her back.

Lily’s hands found their way into James’ hair and James made to wrap his arms around Lily, rustling the fabric of her dress as he did so.

Curiosity getting the better of him, causing James to break off the kiss and ask, "What is this dress made of? Netting?"

"I don’t know," said Lily seriously. "But it’s so itchy."

* * *

 

Once Lily had changed into some jeans, her and James fell onto her bed and began kissing again. Then, upon hearing the doorbell ring a split second later, they stopped.

"Who could that be?" complained Lily.

"It doesn’t matter," said James, cupping her face in his hands, as she lay beside him.

"Good point," said Lily, bringing her lips to meet his.

The sound of the front door opening did not startle them, but the sound of James’ father speaking did.

They broke apart.

"Is that your dad?" asked Lily.

James nodded.

* * *

 

James’ father had discovered James’ note after returning from a round of golf with a few friends. As soon as he had, he’d jumped in the car and set off to Sowsworth. Neither Angie nor Sirius had seen him, but they showed him the way to Lily’s house.

All of this meant that James’ reunion with Lily was cut short and his return to Hove made sooner.

"What were you thinking? You had me worried sick," snapped Mr. Potter as James climbed into the passenger seat of the car.

"I left you a note."

"‘Gone away for a bit. Don’t worry. I’ll come back. Love James,’ is neither informative nor calming."

Mr. Potter slammed his car door shut and pressed his foot angrily down on the pedal so that they shot off at a reasonable speed.

"You can’t do that again, okay?" said Mr. Potter.

"I’m sorry I worried you, dad," said James truthfully, "I think I’ve just been so well-behaved this past month I had to make up for it somehow."

His father let out a reluctant laugh.

"Dad, can I ask you something?"

"Anything."

"Could we move to Sowsworth?"

Mr. Potter smiled slightly and said, "It’s funny you should say that because I was having a conversation with a nice young chap at the wedding. He said he was looking to sell his house and I said that knowing my son, I might just be interested."    

"Caradoc?" asked James.

"That’s the chap."

James could scarcely believe what he was hearing. Then, a thought occurred to him.

"How did you know to look for me here?"

Mr. Potter scoffed, keeping his eyes on the dark country lane ahead, "Where else would you have gone?"

 


	24. Hey La, Hey La

**Chapter Twenty-Four: Hey La, Hey La**

Just a couple of hours after saying goodbye to her brother, come to Sowsworth to retreat his runaway son, Angie Potter received another surprising knock on the door.

Upon opening it, she saw a boy she recognised but was unfamiliar with. Angie felt a certain warmth towards him though, in spite of the fact that she did not know the boy, most likely because of his resemblance to his older brother Sirius.

"Regulus, by any chance?" asked Angie, already knowing the answer.

"Yeah," replied Regulus cautiously. "Is Sirius here?"

"Why don’t you come in?"

Angie pointed Regulus up the staircase and whispered, "First door on your right."

With a clench of his jaw and a rush of determination, Regulus followed Angie’s instructions and knocked for his brother.

"I’m decent," called Sirius from inside the room.

Taking this as an invitation to enter, Regulus opened the door. What he found, upon a quick scan of the room, was Sirius lying on his front, feet at the pillows and head at the bottom of the bed, reading.

Without looking up, Sirius asked, "Who was at the door?"

"Me," replied Regulus dryly.

The book fell to the floor and Sirius jumped off of the bed as quickly as possible.

"I thought you were Angie," said Sirius, standing up straight in an attempt to intimidate his little brother.

"I gathered."

"So… get out then, yeah?"

"I need to talk to you."

"About what? How you didn’t burn down that church?"

"Can I sit down?" asked Regulus.

"No," replied Sirius.

Ignoring this, Regulus sat on the bed and began, "I was wrong about the fire. We did start it. I mean, I didn’t have anything to do with it," he added quickly. "But Snape and Mulciber did."

"Is any of this supposed to be news to me?" asked Sirius, leaning against the wall, determinately not joining his brother on the bed.

"Let me finish," snapped Regulus. "Now, this whole fire thing, I just can’t find a way to justify it. It was too far."

"Understatement."

"Yeah."

"So you’re here to apologise?"

"I’m here to try and make up for it," said Regulus.

"How on earth do you expect to do that?" sneered Sirius.

"If you’d let me finish you’d find out."

Sirius tensed, but said, "Fine."

"There’s something you need to know about Pettigrew."

"What’s that then?"

"He’s been helping us out."

Sirius let out a bark of cold laughter.

"It’s true!" snapped Regulus, standing up in indignation. "Why would I lie to you about this?"

"You lied about the fire." said Sirius.

"I didn’t lie. I didn’t even know about it until the next day like everyone else."

"Yeah, and I believe that as much as I believe Pete had anything to do with it. Now get out before I kick you out."

"Oh, would you just listen to me for once!" cried Regulus. "How do you think we knew when to throw the rocks or that the church had given money to the Prewetts in the first place? How do you think we managed to sell our own tickets for that bloody disco?"

"By being sneaky little shits?" offered Sirius.

"Pettigrew helped us. He gave us all the information. I don’t know if he helped start the fire but he helped us smash those windows."

Any amusement Sirius had found in this conversation vanished and his expression turned icy as he said, "Get out of this house."

"I’m not lying, Sirius."

"And I’m not lying when I tell you to get out."

"Fine," allowed Regulus, nodding slowly. "But don’t say I didn’t warn you about Pettigrew."

"Hey, do you remember five seconds ago when I told you to get out?"

"I’ll see you around," muttered Regulus before backing out of the room.

As he left, Sirius called out after him, "I wouldn’t count on it."

* * *

 

The next day at lunch it became apparent that Regulus was not alone in his opposition to the burning down of the church.

As Polly and Janine approached their table in the canteen, Lily and Mary exchanged a subtle look of surprise. Dorcas made a far less subtle face of amusement mixed with disapproval which did not deter Janine from sitting down beside her, but did require her to give Polly a small nudge before she would sit down as well.

"Hello?" said Lily, as more of a question than a greeting.

"Listen, I’m not sorry about my opinion. I genuinely believe I chose the right side in this whole farm thing," said Janine briskly.

Mary rolled her eyes while Polly shifted awkwardly in her seat.

"But," continued Janine, "I’m sorry for the way my brother and his mates have been acting. The whole church on fire thing… that was just bang out of order."

Janine had directed the church comment mainly at Mary who muttered a sarcastic thank you under her breath in response.

"Maybe out of order isn’t the right phrase," said Janine quickly.

"Really really nasty?" suggested Polly in a quiet voice.

"Fucking awful?" offered Lily.

Dorcas let out a small laugh.

"Well, yeah," conceded Janine.

A tense silence followed which Polly broke with a surprisingly loud cry of, "We should all have tea at mine one day."

The girls all agreed this would be nice and, of course, this meeting for tea never did happen. In fact, Janine and Polly barely spoke to Dorcas, Mary, and Lily after that lunch. But, really, it was the thought that counted.

* * *

 

It wasn’t until the beginning of May that either James or Lucius Malfoy were able to grace Sowsworth with their presence once more. The former due to the tedious amount of admin, not to mention packing, involved in buying a house. However, because James’ father was keeping the house back in Hove and Caradoc was only moving in with his family in Richmond, there was no need to get into the complicated business of the property ladder and the whole purchase was finished in just a month.

A couple of days before James arrived, Dorcas, her hair done by her mother in a full-on Farrah style,  knocked on Mary’s door.

Mary greeted her friend quite contentedly only to become irritated the moment Dorcas opened her mouth.

"I’m not going," said Mary in a tired voice.

"Why not?" cried Dorcas.

Mary sighed, "Cas, why do you even want to go?"

Dorcas pouted as subtly as possible and looked at the floor with sad, wide eyes.

"I just wanted to say goodbye to Caradoc," she said softly.

Mary was reminded vividly of a child trying to trick their parents into letting them stay home from school, feigning an illness.

"Please. I just want to say goodbye," repeated Dorcas.

"Why don’t you ask Lily?"

"She already said no," said Dorcas sadly. "I think she’s gone to visit her dad."

With a roll of her eyes, finally, Mary conceded and they set off for the hills.

* * *

 

The moment they arrived at, what was technically still, the Dearborn house, Dorcas became overwhelmed with a sudden fit of nerves and begged Mary to knock for her. Then, worrying their visit might not have the desired effect if she was not the first thing Caradoc saw upon opening the door, Dorcas asked if Mary would let her stand in front.

By the time they had been welcomed into the house itself, Mary felt quite tired of Dorcas’ company.

"Would you like some tea?" offered Caradoc awkwardly, leading the two girls into the sitting room. "I’ve packed up most of my kitchen stuff up, but I think there are a few teacups around."

"I’ll help you look," said Dorcas enthusiastically.

"Oh, okay. That’d be lovely," replied Caradoc with a warm smile.

Dorcas let out a giggle and Mary followed reluctantly.

"You know what," said Caradoc. "I think there’s an old tea set up there."

He gestured to a cabinet far too high for Mary to reach.

"Oh, I’ll have a look," cried Dorcas. "I’ve got very long legs, you see."

As she reached up to open the cabinet door, Dorcas made sure to bend over as much as possible, causing her skirt to rise up and showing off even more of her legs.

To Mary’s surprise, Caradoc appeared to have become flustered. It always surprised Mary how Dorcas managed to win over the objects of her obsession when she was so over the top and inappropriate. But then, thought Mary, Dorcas was incredibly pretty.

"I don’t think I’m quite tall enough," sighed Dorcas suddenly, turning to face Caradoc. "Will you help me?"

Mary announced that she was going to the loo although she suspected this might be a waste of breath as her two companions seemed far too caught up in assisting each other in retrieving the old tea set.

Due to the fact that she didn’t actually need the loo at all, Mary preoccupied herself with washing her hands and then, upon discovering that all the towels had been packed away already, wiped her hands dry on her jeans while tutting.

She hoped desperately that Caradoc and Dorcas would be done flirting by now.

It was clear to Mary, however, upon her return, that the pair were by no means done flirting. She lingered in the doorway, unsure whether or not to enter the kitchen.

Dorcas was leaning with her back against the counter and Caradoc was leaning very close to her, his arm leaning on the countertop, an inch or so away from Dorcas’ waist.

"I swear," giggled Dorcas. "I’m not usually this stupid. I’ve never forgotten to put the teabag in the teapot before."

Caradoc grinned, closing the distance between them.

Just as Mary was about to retreat into the hallway, thinking it best to wait in the living room until the two of them were finished, she saw Dorcas pull away so violently that she knocked the teapot beside her onto the floor.

"I’m so sorry," she stammered.

"No, no, no," said Caradoc. "I’m sorry I got the wrong impression"

"No, you didn’t," cried Dorcas. "Why don’t we try again?"

As Mary walked away towards the living room she heard Dorcas let out a high pitched laugh. A few seconds later, Caradoc and Dorcas joined Mary, Dorcas very flushed and Caradoc refusing to meet anyone’s eye.

"I’m so silly I broke the teapot," sighed Dorcas as though that was all that had happened. "But Caradoc here was clever enough to pour the tea into the cups before bringing them out."

"I’ll just go get them," announced Caradoc, almost fleeing the room.

Dorcas continued to smile warmly.

The three of them drank their tea in silence before Mary thanked Caradoc for his hospitality and Dorcas gave Caradoc an incredibly awkward handshake goodbye.

Once they were a reasonable distance from Hangleton Road, Mary asked, "What an earth was that all about?"

"I know," sighed Dorcas, "I’m sorry."

"I don’t mind, Cas, but if you didn’t fancy the bloke then why bother dragging me all the way up here."

"What are you talking about?" snapped Dorcas defensively before adding with a nervous giggle, "We were snogging in the kitchen the whole time you were in the loo."

Mary stopped in her tracks.

Dorcas looked at her suspiciously before turning back to look at the village visible below the small country path they had been walking down and saying, "It does look quite pretty from here, doesn’t it?"

Ignoring this, Mary asked, "If that’s what happened then why was it so uncomfortable when you came back to the living room?"

"Oh, because he wanted to take me out to dinner in London and I said I couldn’t afford to get there and he got offended. It was ridiculous really," said Dorcas casually.

"So you didn’t pull away when he tried to kiss you or anything?"

Narrowing her eyes, Dorcas replied, "No, why would I do that?"

"I don’t know, Cas. But I saw it happen."

"You were watching us?"

"I practically walked in on it!" cried Mary. "I wasn’t exactly spying."

Dorcas looked like she might start to cry, but Mary was far from caring.

"Why did you lie to me?" she questioned Dorcas coldly. "You should know I would give a shit whether you kissed him or not. Actually I’m glad you didn’t he’s way too old for you," Mary added off-handedly before shaking her head. "But that’s not the point. The point is that you lied to me."

"Okay fine," said Dorcas, trying, and failing, to keep her voice steady. "I lied. But I don’t see why it matters anyway. You know, I could be angry at you for not commenting on how nice my hair looks."

"Because, Dorcas," replied Mary through gritted teeth, pointedly ignoring Dorcas’ hair comment. "It’s starting to make me think you might have lied about Colin too."

Dorcas’s eyes widened and Mary felt that, if she had ever driven a car and caught a deer in the headlights, it would have looked rather like Dorcas in that moment.

"Why would I lie about that?" asked Dorcas shakily.

"I have no idea," said Mary, "Why did you lie about Caradoc?"

Dorcas did not reply.

Mary, however, pressed on, "You can’t just tell half the village my brother’s a pervert, Cas."

"I was embarrassed," she began, but Mary cut her off.

"Well, think how Colin felt."

"He was really mean," said Dorcas, tears starting to well in her eyes. "I couldn’t stop laughing while we kissed. I don’t know why. I know I shouldn’t have but I couldn’t help it and he practically stormed away from me saying he never wanted to see me again."

With a swallow, Dorcas continued, "I was worried about what he’d tell everyone. I thought it’d make me seem… I don’t know. I don’t know. I just didn’t want anyone to know what really happened. Please don’t be upset with me."

Mary faltered for a moment and was filled with a rare desire to give Dorcas a big hug and tell her everything would be okay and that she was forgiven. But Dorcas had not actually apologised. Not to mention, Dorcas was, it had been revealed, a rather good liar, and Mary could not trust that even her tears were real.

"Cas, what you did was really bad and there’s no excuse for it. I don’t want to be upset with you, I really don’t, but I can’t pretend like everything okay."

Dorcas nodded slowly before saying, "Okay. That’s fine. I… I’ll see you at school," and turning her back on Mary once more, walking as fast as her long legs would take her back down to the village.

With a deep sigh, Mary followed, her pace much slower. Dorcas was soon lost from sight.

* * *

 

James arrived the following Sunday. By that time almost every trace of Caradoc Dearborn had vanished, no evidence remained of Dorcas’ failed venture into love, nothing except for a shard of china that got stuck to James’ sock.

Lily, who had come to help James and his father unpack, was the one to notice this.

At half past eleven in the morning, Mr. Potter opened the door to his new home. At fifteen minutes to twelve, Lily knocked.

James ran down the stairs and practically flung himself into the front door in his excitement to see Lily for the first time in over a month.

"Are you alright?" called Lily.

"Fine," replied James, opening the door and rubbing his arm where he’d bashed it. Then, with a grin, he said, "Hello."

"Hello," she said with a wide smile, flinging her arms around him.

James wrapped his left arm around Lily, as his right was still throbbing from his run in with the door, and squeezed her tightly.

"Wanna see my new room? It’s massive," said James.

"Obviously. Now that you’re a Richie I only really care about your material possessions."

They released each other and James stepped aside to let Lily into the house. She made to go up the stairs but James called out for her to wait.

"What?" asked Lily, skipping back towards where James stood in the hallway.

"You need to help me take some boxes up."

James then vanished into the living room.

Lily cried loudly after him, "I thought you wanted my company but you only wanted my raw physical strength."

"Yep," replied James, returning with a small cardboard box and dumping it into Lily’s arms.

* * *

 

It took nearly half an hour to find and shift all of James’ stuff upstairs.

"I don’t remember you having nearly this much rubbish at Angie’s," said Lily as she practically threw the last box onto James’ bed.

"Well, I don’t know how long I’ll be staying here this time," he replied falling down onto the bed beside the discarded box and pulling Lily down with him.

Lily landed awkwardly on her side, her hip digging into James’ stomach and her head almost colliding with his chin.

"This is horrible," complained Lily.

"I thought it was romantic," replied James, who was just as uncomfortable as Lily and a little winded from the impact of Lily’s hip.

"Eh, not really," she said, rolling off of him onto her front and lifting her head a little to face him. "Go make me some tea, yeah?"

* * *

 

James returned swiftly with two cups of tea. After passing one to Lily, he chose to sit on the floor rather than try to find a comfortable spot on the bed amongst the boxes and the pretty ginger girl who had managed to make herself rather at home with a pillow she’d found.

"What’s that on your foot?" asked Lily.

"A sock," replied James bluntly.

"On the sock."

With a frown James twisted both of his feet in examination before discovering the shard of china embedded into the cotton of his left sock.

"Where’d that come from?" said Lily.

"Something made of china probably."

"Don’t be snarky with me I might have just saved your life."

"From a bit of china?"

"You never know. Don’t you remember how you freaked out when you barely scratched your foot in the sea?"

"Oi, shut it," replied James, playfully throwing the shard across the room, aiming for, and hitting, a spot nowhere near Lily.

"That was rude. Now get on the bed with me."

"There’s no room."

Lily rolled her eyes and kicked a box, with the word ‘clothes’ written on the side so it fell onto the floor,

"So needy," teased James, awkwardly getting to his feet with the cup of tea still in his hands.

"I’m just excited to have my boyfriend back!" she cried.

Then, with a gasp, Lily’s eyes lit up with excitement.

"What?" asked James, sitting down beside her.

Lily began to sing, "My boyfriend’s back and you’re gonna be in trouble."

"Hey la, hey la, my boyfriend’s back!" James sang back in a horribly high pitched voice.

Lily laughed, burying her face into James’ shoulder.

"I don’t know the rest of the song," she said sadly.

"I think it’s mostly just ‘hey la’."

"Hey la," echoed Lily. "My boyfriend’s back."

* * *

 

Dorcas had not spoken to any of her friends since her fight with Mary. In fact, it had been so long (roughly four days) since she’d had any interaction with her peers that she almost started when Maureen said hello to her in the hallway first thing on Monday morning.

"You alright, Meadowes?" asked Maureen. "You look like you’ve seen a ghost"

Very quickly, Dorcas became flushed.

With a mutter of, "Sorry, I really need the loo," Dorcas moved past Maureen and burst into the girl’s toilets.

Maureen was left with the odd and uncomfortable feeling that perhaps she’d done something to offend Dorcas.

* * *

 

McGonagall’s office was just as James remembered it from almost a year beforehand. The same old volumes lined the walls and the same incredible amount of pine furniture filled the room.

Even McGonagall herself looked the same, staring at him from behind her desk and asking him to take a seat.

He nodded and did as he was told.

"Now, Mr. Potter, it’s very nice to see you again," she said matter-of-factly.

James raised an eyebrow but did not respond.

Opening James’ file before her, Miss McGonagall continued, "And it’s very nice to see that not only have your grades improved, but also none of these pages have recently been set on fire."

Laughing nervously, James said, "Well, you were already in here so I didn’t quite get a chance."

McGonagall ignored this. James was rather glad of it, not wanting to expand on his history of arson.

"I’ve also," she pressed on, "Been happy to see that, besides quite a few more detentions than I’d perhaps like a single student to earn in just one year, you’ve managed to avoid any of the previous bullying problems you had at your previous school. Except, of course, for a few incidents with Mr. Snape and Mr. Mulciber."

James did not ask how she knew this.

"Overall, St. Albus’ is delighted to have you back. Your grades are exemplary."

"Thank you, Miss."

"Thank you, Mr. Potter, for improving your attitude. Now run along to your lesson. If I’m not wrong you’re supposed to be in History now."

With a nod, James rose from his chair and made to leave the room.

"Oh, Mr. Potter," cried McGonagall. James stopped and glanced back over his shoulder. "I’m very impressed with your work for the Prewett farm."

* * *

 

Mary was slightly surprised that Dorcas wasn’t in the Maths classroom with the others at lunch. She’d been late due to a conversation with her Business teacher about the upcoming exam and had expected everyone to be gathered already.

Sure enough, Remus, Peter, James, and Sirius were there arguing amongst themselves as Lily, who was perched on James’ lap, looked disapproving at whatever it was they were saying. But Dorcas was nowhere to be seen.

Mary took the empty seat beside Lily and James.

"Where’s Cas?" asked Lily.

"I was about to ask you the same thing," said Mary.

The boys took no notice of this break off in conversation and kept on debating how best to get revenge on the Richies.

Lily turned back to the boys and said, "Has anyone seen Cas?"

"She was in Maths," replied Remus. "She didn’t talk much though."

"Basically ran out after it was over. I tried to follow her to find out what was wrong," said James. "But she’d already disappeared into the girls’ loos."

Mary excused herself and made for the toilets. The rest sank back into their debate.

"I’m still a fan of skinning Snape alive," voiced Sirius.

"I still think that might be just a bit too illegal," replied Remus with a small smile.

"I thought we agreed on no violence," said Lily.

"No," said James, "You and Peter agreed on no violence. We agreed on at least breaking someone’s nose."

"Not Snivellus’," said Sirius. "It’d be cruel to make him any uglier than he already is."

"Besides I’m not touching that greasy nose," added James.

"I stand by my idea of pulling his trousers down," said Peter.

Lily made a face.

"I agree with Lily," announced Remus.

"No violence?" asked Sirius in disbelief.

"No. No pulling Snape’s trousers down," corrected Remus. "Lily looked quite repulsed by the idea."

"Of course she did. She’s got some sense," said James proudly.

Lily let out a loud, incredibly fake, laugh before shooting James a scowl she wasn’t totally committed to.

"Why don’t we throw eggs at them?" suggested Peter.

Sirius thought for a moment before saying, "You know, we could do that."

"I like it," said Lily.

"It’s simple but disgusting. I like it too," stated James.

"I guess it could work," said Remus.

"Brilliant," cried Lily. "No violence. Just eggs."

"No violence. Just eggs," the boys repeated, slightly out of sync with each other.

A victorious smile spread across Lily’s face.

* * *

 

Mary burst into the toilets, calling out Dorcas’ name. A couple of year eights who had been checking their makeup shot Mary an odd look before picking up their bags and leaving.

"Cas, are you in here?" she called once more.

"Mary?" came Dorcas’ voice from the locked cubicle in the far corner.

"Cas, come out," said Mary wearily. "You don’t have to hide from me."

"I’m not hiding," cried Dorcas incredulously.

The door to the cubicle remained locked and closed.

"Then what on earth are you doing?"

"I’m in solitary confinement."

"You’ve imprisoned yourself?"

"I’m thinking about things."

Dorcas’ behaviour had bewildered Mary almost daily since they were four years old, that moment in the toilets, however, was by far the most bewildering so far.

"Cas, have you been in here all day?" she asked with a slight tone of disgust which anyone who has ever spent any time in a school toilet will find understandable.

"No," replied Dorcas as though it was a ridiculous question. "I’ve gone to lessons. Exams are coming up Mary, I’m not completely irresponsible."

"And you just come back here during your breaks to… think?"

"It helps me avoid distractions."

"How much do you have to think about?"

There was a brief moment of silence before Dorcas, letting out an uncontrollable sob as she did so, replied, "A lot."

"Oh, Cas," said Mary. "Let me in."

There was another sob before Mary heard the sound of a lock sliding open and a tear-stained Dorcas appeared before her.

Before Dorcas could speak, Mary had rushed forwards and pulled her down into her hug.

With a bend of her knees, Dorcas rested her head on Mary’s shoulder and whispered, "I’m really sorry."

* * *

 

The egg plan was set to take place that Wednesday. However, on Tuesday, James spotted Snape alone in the languages corridor and couldn’t help himself.

"Alright, Snivellus?" he called, strutting over to Snape. "I thought I smelt burning."

Snape, leaning against the wall with his nose buried in a Chemistry book, gave James a quick disapproving glance and replied, "I don’t have time for your rubbish, Potter. I, unlike you, actually care about my education."

Reaching Snape, and leaning against the wall opposite him, James said, "Oh, so sorry to interrupt," his voice full of pure disdain, "I just wanted to have a quick conversation about a family’s livelihood and home. Maybe also a natter about, if we had the time, the really old and beautiful local church that got just a bit fucked up in a fire."

With a sigh, Snape snapped his textbook closed and returned it to his bag.

"Tell me, Potter, will you actually die if you’re not the centre of attention for one moment?"

"I’m not the one making this about me," sneered James.

"Oh, really? Because, from what I’ve gathered, you have to make everything about you. I bet you think you’re a right hero," he snarled back.

"And I bet you think you’re so clever."

Then, rather suddenly, the conversation descended into pure violence.

James threw the first punch, hitting Snape right on the jaw, but Snape wasted no time in returning the blow.

Within minutes the two of them were on the floor, punching and kicking any part of the other they could.

A year ten was the first to spot the ruckus and drew quite a crowd in with his cries of, "Fight! Fight! Fight!"

James and Snape were soon surrounded by students, most of whom were egging James on.

"Get him!" James heard Sirius cry and he was filled with a rush of adrenalin at the sound of his best friend’s voice.

Just as James went to punch Snape in the face once more, he felt someone grab his elbow. It was Lily.

"What the fuck do you think you’re doing?" she demanded.

James allowed her to pull him to his feet, cowering slightly at the flash of fury in Lily’s emerald eyes.

"Sorry," he muttered.

"He started it," spat Snape, still on the floor, his nose bleeding profusely.

It took a rather large amount of restraint for James to stop himself kicking Snape in the gut.

"I don’t give a shit," cried Lily. "This is over. Now."

There were murmurs and moans of disappointment in the crowd, but once they realised that was Lily correct, that no more fighting would ensue, they dispersed.

Sirius lingered for a moment, but thought it would be best if he made himself scarce.

"Come on," said Lily quietly, holding her hand out for James.

With one last look at Snape, getting to his feet and glaring back at him, James took Lily’s hand and allowed her to guide him away from the corridor.

"I’m sorry," repeated James, once Snape was far out of earshot.

"Are you sorry that you did it or sorry that I saw it?" asked Lily coldly, still holding James’ hand but not meeting his eye.

"Lily," he began.

"It’s fine, forget it. I don’t want to talk about it."

* * *

Although Lily had said it was fine, that he should forget it, and that she didn’t want to talk about it, James felt that it was far from being fine, found he could not forget it, and wanted very much to talk to Lily about it. So, after dinner that evening, James made his way down into the village with the intention of trying to clear the air. But, before he could quite reach Lily’s house, James spotted Dorcas Meadowes sitting on a bench alone.

Her brow was furrowed and she was chewing her lip, giving James every indication that she was very much in the middle of thinking about something. Ignoring these indications James strolled over and sat beside her.

"You alright?" he asked.

Blinking rapidly and turning to face him, Dorcas replied, "I was just thinking."

"What were you thinking about?"

"Well, I’m on my way to have a rather unpleasant conversation and I’m a little bit worried about it. So I’m trying to go over all the ways it could possibly go wrong."

"That seems a little much."

"Well, see, the thing is, I’ve got this pretty bad habit of acting before I think and it tends to cause quite the cock up."

"Yeah," sighed James. "I think I can relate."

"Why? What did you do this time?"

"Make an arse out of myself in front of Lily."

Dorcas snorted, "Yeah and in other news the sky is blue."

James could not argue with this so instead said, "Who do you have to talk to?"

"Colin Macdonald," answered Dorcas sadly. "I really need to apologise to him for telling everyone he whipped he penis out."

"I knew that was a lie," cried James triumphantly, then, upon seeing that Dorcas wilted slightly at his words, added, "I mean, it’s likely no one else believed it either. You probably didn’t do too much damage."

"Thanks," she said with a smile.

"You’re welcome."

"But you were wrong, you know, when you said why you thought it was a lie."

"What did I say again?"

Dorcas laughed, "You said that no bloke gives up on a girl that easily. Well, all I did was laugh when he kissed me and just because of that he decided he’d never speak to me again."

"Really?" cried James. "What a tosser. I mean, less of a tosser than you made him out to be but still."

"I think it’s a pride thing," said Dorcas off-handedly before muttering, "And I suppose that’s why I lied as well."

James thought she was probably right but could not pretend to understand what level of pride and lack of confidence would lead to behaviour such as Dorcas’ or Colin’s.

"Well, I should probably get going otherwise I’ll just end up sitting here all night like yesterday," she announced, standing up.

"Good luck."

"You too, with trying to make up for whatever it was you did to piss of Lily."

* * *

 

When Reverend Macdonald opened his front door to see Dorcas Meadowes standing there his assumption was that she was there to see his daughter. However, when Dorcas clarified that she was here to see Colin about helping her with her English revision, he clapped his hands in delight.

"Oh, wonderful," he cried. "I do love when Colin puts himself out there to help others. I swear he can be sourer than a lemon tree sometimes."

Dorcas let out a fake laugh before Reverend Macdonald stepped aside and allowed her to enter.

"Do you know which room is his, dear? It’s the first on the right if you’re not sure."

"Thank you," said Dorcas.

She knocked lightly, half hoping Colin wouldn’t hear over The ELO song he was blaring. Yet, inevitably, the music stopped and the door was opened.

"What do you want?" he asked bluntly.

Plastering on a well-rehearsed smile, Dorcas replied, "Can I come in?"

"Why?"

"I want to talk to you."

With a roll of his eyes, Colin stood aside and allowed her to enter.

A sudden scent of sweat and staleness hit Dorcas and she became even more desperate than before to get this conversation over with as quickly as possible.

Colin, clearly sharing this desire, said, "Can we make this quick?"

"Yeah, I won’t be long," promised Dorcas.

At this, Colin took a seat on the bed. Dorcas could smell the sheets from where she stood and decided it would be best not to join him.

"I’m sure you’ve probably heard about… something I might have said you did," she said.

"That I whipped my cock out?" he asked.

"Yeah, that."

"What about it?"

"Well, I wanted to say I was sorry."

"Oh, did you?" mocked Colin, eyebrows raised.

"Yes," said Dorcas firmly. "I’m really, really sorry."

There was a brief pause before Colin replied, "Okay. Well, thanks. Is that all?"

"Oh, yeah, I suppose so."

"Okay then."

Sure that if she did not leave right away he might actually march her out himself, Dorcas did not linger any longer.

* * *

 

James was pleasantly surprised at how warmly Lily welcomed him into her bedroom, giving him a kiss before beginning to talk rapidly about how she was torn between making her hair extra awful for Petunia’s wedding to match her dress, or try to counteract it by looking as pretty as possible.

"I wouldn’t bother doing anything," teased James, flinging himself onto Lily’s bed and watching her fiddle with her hair in front of the mirror. "Nobody’s gonna be able to see anything but that dress."

Lily stuck her tongue out at James before returning to her reflection.

"Listen," he said, "About earlier today."

"I told you I didn’t want to talk about it."

"Yeah, but," he began.

"James," snapped Lily, almost threateningly, "Now should I go garish with my makeup or just not bother putting any on at all? I mean you did say nobody would be looking at anything but the dress."

"Well," said James cautiously. "You could go full clown just to see if anyone notices."

* * *

 

Dorcas had planned on going home as soon as she’d finished speaking to Colin, but she was filled with a sudden exhilaration after having finally done the thing she’d been putting off since the previous week.

It wasn’t enough, anymore, to simply apologise to Colin and move on, in the same way, as though nothing had happened.

 Without a further thought, Dorcas ran from Colin’s door and burst into Mary’s room.

"Cas?" cried Mary, who had been sitting cross-legged on the floor, pouring over what looked like Maths revision.

"I think I need to talk about something."

"Okay," said Mary. "Do you want to sit down?"

"I’ve got too much energy," replied Dorcas, twisting her fingers together and pacing up and down the room. "This Colin thing has got me thinking."

"Yeah, you’ve been doing a lot of that."

"I know! So anyway, here’s the thing, I can’t do that again."

"Tell everyone Colin whipped his penis out?"

"No," scoffed Dorcas, still pacing. "I can’t go after a guy I don’t fancy just because I think I should."

"Well, yeah, that sounds like a really bad idea. Why would you do that?"

This was when Dorcas finally stopped pacing and sank to the floor.

"What is it?" prompted Mary.

"I think I just want romance so much that I try too hard to make it happen. I mean, I’ll spend all my time thinking about these boys and wanting to see them and thinking about the parts of them I think look nice. But it doesn’t matter how good I told myself James Potter’s bum was, I never really wanted to snog him."

At that, Dorcas went quiet, feeling perhaps she had said a little too much.

"You know," began Mary, "I’ve never fancied anyone. So I don’t think that’s all that weird."

"That’s you though, Mare, not me."

Their eyes met and there was a brief flicker of understanding.

Mary smiled warmly, reaching out to clasp Dorcas’ hands, and saying, "Well, you know, I think the best thing to do would be to just wait until you find someone you really do fancy. Then you should go for it. Full-on Dorcas style."

"And make a complete tit out of myself?" she asked, half laughing.

"Of course," replied Mary.

"Thanks, Mare."

"Any time."

* * *

 

Mr. Mulciber was reading in his study when the maid knocked on the door.

"Come in," he called, not taking his eyes off of the volume in his hands.

Entering the study, the maid announced, "Sir, there’s a Mr. Malfoy here to see you."

Mr. Mulciber almost dropped his book in excitement.

 


	25. Cold Tea

**Chapter Twenty Five: Cold Tea**

Lucius Malfoy was made welcome by the Black family for the duration of his stay in Sowsworth.  His wife Narcissa, being a former Black herself, accompanied him along with her sister Bellatrix. A third sister, Andromeda, was absent and unmentioned due to her greatly disapproved of husband who was both poor and common.

Regulus was not sure if he was grateful for the company of his cousins, missing, for the first time since his departure, Sirius’ presence and cold demeanour. Bellatrix was insufferable without Sirius there to mock her.

On the first evening of their stay, Bellatrix sat beside Regulus at dinner and spoke nothing but praise for his recent behaviour in regards to the Prewett farm situation.

"Of course, we’re not supposed to name names," she said loftily, her voice cold but her smile warm, "But the fire was genius."

"I didn’t have anything to do with that," defended Regulus.

"Of course not," replied Bellatrix with a wink before returning her focus to her yorkshire pudding.

"I’m so glad that all that ‘save the farm’ rubbish is over," called Walburga across the table, drawing all attention. "Now you, Lucius, can finally put that land to some good use."

"I couldn’t agree more," said Narcissa, giving her husband a fond look as he attempted to pretend he hadn’t just burnt his tongue by eating a particularly hot roast potato.

* * *

 

One day after the arrival of Lucius Malfoy and his family in Sowsworth, the Prewetts began to pack up their belongings. They weren’t taking much with them, aware that there wouldn’t be room for all their bits and bobs at the Weasley farm, where they were to live for the foreseeable future.

Molly Weasley was quick to volunteer to house her family and her husband Arthur equally quick to comply.

So, by the following week, the Prewett farm was left vacant, ready to be demolished at the end of the month.

* * *

 

Regulus turned sixteen on the eighteenth of May, which, to his dismay, his cousins were present to celebrate. Yet, with him avoiding his friends ever since the church-burning incident and Sirius completely ignoring him, he didn’t have many other options for company.

He did try attempt a conversation with Sirius that day at school, running into him outside the boy’s toilets.

"Hi," said Regulus.

Sirius gave him a perplexed stare which, probably due to years of experience, he managed to turn into a cold glare.

"What is it?" said Sirius coolly.

"So Bella and Cissy have been staying."

"So I’ve heard."

"And it’s been awful."

"Naturally. Anything else?"

"Oh," stammered Regulus. "No. That was all really."

"Fantastic. Have a lovely birthday, brother," replied Sirius.

The coldness of his continued glare undermined any sentimental value his words might otherwise have held.

Beyond watching him walk away, that was the only contact Regulus had with his elder brother on his sixteenth birthday.

With a wistful sigh, Regulus entered the toilets and relieved himself.

* * *

 

On the last Friday of the month, the day before Petunia’s wedding to Vernon Dursley, James had been invited to sleep on the Evans’ sofa. Petunia apparently did not trust Lily or James to be ready in a timely fashion and so wanted to keep an eye on the both of them.

That evening, after dinner, Lily was flat on her back on her single bed, Brutus purring contentedly on her chest. James was sat in the chair across the room, staying as far away from the cat as possible.

"I think my suit’s too nice," said James off-handedly as he rummaged through the clutter on Lily’s desk.

"Think you’ll show me up?" asked Lily.

Brutus glared at James as the sound of nail varnish bottles falling to the floor echoed through the room.

"Sorry," said James to the cat before continuing, "Yeah, I just think I’m gonna look so fantastic it’s really gonna emphasise how awful you’re gonna look."

"Brutus, go maul James’ face," ordered Lily calmly.

"Oi!" cried James. "You might think that’s funny but he understands you and he’ll fuck my face up while I sleep."

With a small laugh, Lily said, "But I thought you wanted to look worse for tomorrow."

"Alright, keep joking, but you’re the one that’s gonna have to snog me afterwards."

James returned to his rummaging.

"What are you looking for?" she asked.

"Something to draw on my face with."

"Why?"

"Well, this was what I was trying to say earlier, I’m gonna look too good tomorrow, so I need something to mess up my face. And before you suggest Brutus again, I don’t mean anything permanent."

"Oh, I’ve got lipstick," cried Lily, sitting up so quickly that Brutus jumped off of her lap.

"Surely that will only make me look better."

"Leave it to me," said Lily, getting to her feet. "If we avoid the lips then we should be fine."

Brutus leapt onto the windowsill to sulk in the dying sunlight.

"Okay, first let’s deal with your hair."

"What’s wrong with it?" asked James, sounding almost genuinely offended.

"We need to get it out of your eyes," explained Lily.

Grabbing a handful of bobby pins, she began to pin strands of James’ wild black hair back from his face.

"Oh my God," said Lily.

"What?"

"I’ve just never seen this much of your forehead before."

"Is it acceptable?"

"Eh, It’ll do. Now pass me that lipstick."

James picked up the tube Lily was gesturing to and handed it to her.

"What are you gonna do?" he asked.

"Make you look terrible," she said. Then, pulling back she announced, "Done."

"You didn’t do anything yet," protested James.

"I know," replied Lily before bursting into laughter.

Once she had recovered from her laughing fit, Lily returned to her task of drawing on James’ face.

"Your face is really soft," she commented. "How have I not noticed that before?"

"Because you don’t pay attention to the things that are important to me."

Lily hummed as she doodled on James’ cheek.

"Okay so this looks like a penis," began Lily.

James choked back a laugh, "Right."

"But that wasn’t my intention."

"What was it supposed to be?"

Before Lily could answer, Petunia burst into the room.

"Lily, someone’s here to see you," she announced. Then, seeing what Lily and James were up to, not to mention the penis doodle, she let out a sigh and said, "You better wash that off before tomorrow."

* * *

 

As James followed Lily down the stairs, he rubbed at the lipstick on his cheek, aware that he was simply spreading it, creating a bigger mess as he did so.

James stopped rubbing when he saw that it was Hestia at the door. She always managed to make him feel as though he was under the gaze of a very strict teacher or aunt.

Without looking at James at all, Hestia cried, "Lily, you have to help me. Fabian’s on the roof."

"This roof?" asked Lily, confused.

"No, the roof of our house, our house. The one we just moved out the other week."

"Does he know it’s being demolished in the morning?" said Lily.

"He’s convinced himself he can stop it happening, says that if he stays there long enough everyone who’s come to knock it down will get bored and go home," explained Hestia.

"Well, you can’t fault his idealism," said James.

"You could criticise his lack of communication about the whole thing though," countered Lily, "I mean, why didn’t he tell us? We could’ve helped. Strength in numbers and all that. What if he needs a wee? Someone’s gotta take over for him."

"I didn’t come here so you could help him relieve his bladder," snapped Hestia, "I need your help getting him down."

"What, you want her to scale the wall and fling him off?" asked James.

"I want her to convince him this is ridiculous. He’s not listening to me because apparently I think everything’s ridiculous."

An undertone of bitterness took a slight edge off of the concern in her voice.

"Well, we can’t drag him down," said Lily. "But we can help him out. Right, let’s put on our shoes and go round gathering people up. Or we could get the others to do it then we could go and give Fabian moral support."

"This isn’t what I had in mind," said Hestia.

"I think it’s a great idea except for one thing," voiced James. "Your sister’s wedding is tomorrow, Lily."

"I know, that’s why we’ve got to gather everyone together. This way we can come back tonight, go to the wedding tomorrow, and by Sunday people should hopefully still be there."

"This is a truly awful plan," said Hestia.

"Alright, Hest," said Lily, "You tell Fabian we’re on our way."

Hestia couldn’t help but feel that, in spite of her noble intentions, she had made the situation far worse than it had been to begin with.

* * *

 

James caught Angie and Sirius in the middle of Angie’s evening television session so, naturally, Sirius was sent to open the door.

"Alright?" greeted Sirius.

"Absolutely dandy," replied James.

"Who is it?" called Angie from the living room.

"It’s me," James called back.

A moment later, Angie had entered the hallway and begun to offer James food.

"I already ate, Ange," said James, "Now get back to the evening news. What if you miss a grisly murder?"

Angie continued her attempts at convincing James to eat for a minute or so before returning to the living room.

"She worries you’re too skinny. Talks about it a lot," said Sirius. "I don’t think she trusts your dad to feed you."

"Well I haven’t died yet so I’m sure it’s fine. Besides, I think I’ve gained weight."

"Moving past the fantastically intriguing topic of your body, you wanna tell me why you’re here?"

"Oh yeah," said James. "Do you wanna help start a protest?"

"I’ve been waiting for someone to ask me that my whole life," replied Sirius. "But first let me get out of my pyjamas."

Once Sirius was dressed in appropriate clothing, James told him that he was to collect Remus and Peter, then meet him at the Prewett farm where he would be waiting with Lily.

"Just Remus and Peter?" questioned Sirius.

"Yeah, let Mary and Dorcas get the rest," said James casually. "See you later."

* * *

 

Lily gathered Mary and dragged her to Dorcas’ house where she gave both girls their instructions for the following hour or so. Then, quite promptly, Lily left to meet James.

Dorcas and Mary were both willing to run around Sowsworth gathering the people they thought might be willing to help with Lily had called ‘the protest’ although they could not agree who to call on first.

Dorcas kept suggesting that they ask Maureen Baddock whereas Mary thought that, given his house was closest to Dorcas’, it made the most sense to collect Benjy first, especially since Maureen had never before shown any interest in the Prewett farm.

After a mere three minutes of arguing, Mary gave in.

"Fine," she said. "If you’re so desperate to knock for Maureen Baddock then you go knock for her. I’ll go find Benjy."

Dorcas thought for a moment before conceding.

"I’ll meet you back on the green in fifteen?" asked Mary.

"Deal," said Dorcas.

* * *

 

Dorcas had been to Maureen’s house once before. Earlier that month an uncharacteristically shy Maureen had approached Dorcas in the library and asked if she’d like to come over for dinner some time. Dorcas had accepted with enthusiasm and a short, slightly awkward but pleasant meal had followed that evening.

In spite of this previous visit, Dorcas was absolutely wracked with nerves as she knocked on the Baddock’s front door.

Maureen’s younger brother Phil answered the door with the stony expression Dorcas has seen so many times before on the face of teenage boys.

Without saying a simple hello, Phil turned his head and yelled as loudly as possible "Oi, Maureen, someone’s here for you."

Dorcas was then left to wait alone for an uncomfortable minute or two before Maureen appeared.

"Hey, Meadowes," said Maureen brightly. "What you doing here?"

"Hi," replied Dorcas, louder than she’d expected. "I was wondering if you’d like to come to a protest."

Maureen pulled a face in confusion before saying, "A protest?"

"Yeah."

"Has this got something to do with that farm business? I never really got what was going on with that."

Dorcas took a deep breath before beginning, "Well, the Prewetts couldn’t afford to keep their farm so their landlord was gonna kick them out and turn it into a golf course."

"Right," said Maureen, egging Dorcas on. "But what’s so immoral about that? If they can’t afford to keep it then surely the landlord has the right to kick them out?"

With a sigh, Dorcas continued, "But we were trying to raise money so they wouldn’t have to be kicked out. It was all going really well until those complete wanker rich bastards had to ruin everything so it’s kind of a matter of-"

"Do you wanna come in?" offered Maureen, interrupting Dorcas just as she had begun to sound incredibly passionate. "I could make some tea."

"Alright then," said Dorcas, a little affronted at having been cut off mid-sentence.

"If you really convince me then maybe I’ll give you a chocolate biscuit," added Maureen with a wink.

* * *

 

Despite the rather fantastic view of the surrounding area Fabian had on the roof of his old house, he didn’t see Lily and James coming due to the fact that he was lying flat on his back staring at the sky and singing, very loudly and a little off-key, ‘Power to the People’.

"Oi, Lennon!" cried James once he and Lily were barely ten feet away.  Fabian almost fell off the roof in shock. "You got room for a couple more up there?"

Once he’d regained his balance, Fabian replied, "What are you two doing here?"

"We’ve come to join you in solidarity," said Lily.

"And Lily was worried you might need a piss," added James.

Fabian grinned and said, "I do actually."

Lily shot James a smug look as Fabian attempted to get to his feet and make his way over to the ladder he’d placed against the wall.

"Do we have to sit on the roof?" asked Lily of James.

"I think so," said James. "It seems fitting. Besides, we’re basically experts at sitting on roofs by now."

"Because of that one time we got drunk and almost fell off of the church?"

"Exactly."

Once Fabian was on the ground he muttered a quick thank you to Lily and James before sprinting off towards a row of bushes across the nearest field.

* * *

 

Benjy didn’t need half as much convincing as Maureen to join the protest.

Within a moment, he was tying his shoes and calling to his mum that he’d be out for a while.

"Where are you going this late?" demanded his mum, rushing from the kitchen and stopping dead when she saw Mary. "Oh, you’re going out with a girl?" she said hopefully.

"Yeah, Mum. Me and Mary have a date," said Benjy with almost no irony, which surprised Mary rather a lot.

"Oh, alright have fun," chirped Mrs. Fenwick before adding with a laugh, "And don’t do anything I wouldn’t."

"Promise," replied Benjy dryly. "Come on, Mary."

He slammed the door behind them.

Mary didn’t question why Benjy had lied to his mother and the only explanation he offered was a quick, "My mum doesn’t like me hanging out with Frank."

* * *

 

The tea had grown cold and Dorcas was growing impatient with Maureen. The two girls were sat at the Baddock’s kitchen table, a discarded packet of biscuits lay between them, and Dorcas was finishing her third attempt at explaining to Maureen just why she should join the protest.

"So have I convinced you yet?"

Narrowing her eyes, Maureen asked, "Why are you so intent on dragging me along?"

"Oh, alright," replied Dorcas, offence evidently taken, "I’ll go bother someone else."

"No, don’t take it like that. I just wondered why you came to me out of all people."

Dorcas blushed slightly and took a gulp of her tea. This was followed by an attempt to not spit the revoltingly room temperature liquid back into the cup.

"Okay, Meadowes," said Maureen. "Why don’t you tell me again what happened with the fire?"

"Well, it was obviously the Richies," cried Dorcas.

"And that’s illegal right?"

"Of course it’s illegal!"

Then, Dorcas froze and glared at Maureen Baddock.

"You’re teasing me, aren’t you?" asked Dorcas.

"Me? Tease you?" said Maureen innocently. "I’ve never been accused of anything so heinous in my entire life."

Supressing smile, Dorcas replied, "So, you’ll come with me?"

"Yeah, of course."

"You’re cruel."

"I do try."

The two girls stared at each other, not quite knowing what to say next but not wanting to leave either.

"You know, Meadowes, I think I quite like you all riled up and political?"

Then, she kissed her and Dorcas did not laugh.

* * *

 

"Mary!" cried Dorcas, spotting her friend, sat with Benjy Fenwick, across the green.

Hearing the cry, Mary and Benjy both looked up to see Dorcas hurrying towards them, Maureen Baddock behind her, walking at a reasonable pace.

"What took you so long?" asked Mary, getting to her feet.

Benjy followed suit.

"Maureen took some convincing," answered Dorcas casually.

If Maureen had been close enough to hear this she would have burst into a fit of laughter. However, she reached the group a good thirty seconds later and so missed this exchange.

"Let’s pop into the pub. Benjy says that’s where Frank’ll be,"          said Mary.

"And we can get Alice too," suggested Dorcas.

"You know the barmaid?" questioned Maureen, impressed. "Do you think you could get her to serve me?"

"Maureen, that would be illegal," replied Dorcas earnestly before turning back to Mary. Maureen watched on, a fond expression of amusement on her face. "Should we go to the Griffin and get Alice?"

"Frank’ll be there too I bet you anything," said Benjy.

"Brilliant then let’s go," sighed Mary. Then, to Maureen, she said, "Nice to have you aboard."

"Nice to be here," she replied.

* * *

 

Upon entering, Mary noticed a particularly familiar brunette sitting at the bar nursing a glass of cheap white wine.

"Hestia?" cried Dorcas. "Shouldn’t you be at the farm?"

Hestia turned her head slowly, as if not wanting to believe she was the Hestia in question. Then, upon seeing Dorcas and Mary, let out a groan.

"Can’t I just drink away my sorrows in peace?" she demanded.

"What are your sorrows?" asked Benjy, following his three female companions to the bar.

"My husband’s going to get himself killed by a builder," said Hestia sadly. "Or at least I think he’s trying to. I love that boy but he certainly knows how to test the strength of my heart."

With a frown, Dorcas said, "Metaphorically or literally?"

"Oh, literally," clarified Hestia. "I think he might give me a heart attack."

"Well, you seem healthy enough," added Maureen unhelpfully.

"Thank you," said Hestia.

At that moment, Alice appeared from the back room.

"Where’s Frank?" asked Benjy immediately.

"Benj, me and Frank don’t spend all our time together," she protested before adding, under the power of Benjy’s disbelieving stare, "He left for dinner about an hour ago."

"Which means he should be back any minute?" pressed Benjy.

"Yes," said Alice quickly, a blush appearing on her cheeks as she hurriedly busied herself with wiping a nearby glass.

* * *

 

"You know," said Fabian, lying on his back in between Lily and James on the roof of what was once his home, "The longer I lie here the more I’m starting to think Hestia was right."

"Well, she usually is," agreed Lily. "But I think she was wrong about this. I think this is gonna be good. Even if we don’t win, at least we took a stand."

"Oh, we’re definitely not gonna win," said James.

Just then, the three of them heard a voice that sounded a lot like Sirius.

"Is that Sirius?" asked Lily. "James, sit up and see."

Trying to ignore the pain that was growing in his back, James leaned forwards and saw two of his best friends walking towards them.

"Where’s Peter?" he yelled down.

"His mum’s sick," Remus called back.

"Bless him," said Lily.

* * *

 

By the time everyone else had arrived, Lily, James, and Fabian had relocated to the ground and were sat with Remus and Sirius in a nearby field playing eye spy.

Fabian could not quite believe the amount of people who had turned up, even a few he didn’t recognise, including a dark girl with badly applied eye shadow (he suspected she was Dorcas’ friend as Dorcas had linked arms with her and she was laughing at something Dorcas had said) and a skinny, spotty boy who appeared to be with Kenneth. They’d even managed to get ahold of the elusive and eternally busy Marlene McKinnon.

Most importantly, though, was that his wife Hestia walked proudly amongst them.

"Hest," cried Fabia before leaping to his feet, running over, pulling her into a tight hug and giving her shoulder a quick kiss.

"I was brought here against my will," she said testily once released from Fabian’s embrace.

"Really?"

Hestia looked up into her husband’s pleading eyes and sighed, "No. I came to make sure you didn’t get yourself killed."

"You’re so sweet," said Fabian squeezing her face.

"And you’re a nightmare," she replied fondly. "Thank you for getting off of that roof; you’re much less likely to die down here."

* * *

 

A pleasant hour passed where the group, sat in as even a circle as they could manage, alternating between playing eye-spy and various other tedious word games until night fell and Lily mumbled to James that they should probably go.

That was when the protest hit a rather large, insurmountable bump in the road.

A group of some twenty teenagers appeared, starting as a mere grey mass in the dark. As they grew closer to the circle, faces became clear.

Mulciber, Rosier, Avery, and Snape took the lead, Bellatrix and Ascella in tow. Behind them stood a vast amount of other Richies. You’d think that every single rich kid under the age of twenty in the Sowsworth area had joined their ranks.

As the circle of protesters got to their feet, Sirius felt his stomach drop, unable to help but notice that his brother was notably absent.

"How did they know we were here?" said Hestia.

Sirius could only think of that conversation he’d had with Regulus some weeks ago about Peter Pettigrew.

Mulciber reached them first and practically spat, "Surprised to see us?"

If asked the next morning, both sides of the fight would claim that the other had thrown the first punch. Fabian would go to his grave swearing it was Mulciber whereas Mulciber himself was certain that Sirius had lunged for him first.

Regardless of who started it, it did not take long for every single person, including a reluctant and overwhelmed Hestia Prewett, to join in the physical confrontation.

Bellatrix ran towards Lily, who was egging her on, crying out that she was more than ready to take her on.

Before Bellatrix could lay a single finger on her, Snape had grabbed Lily’s wrist in a misguided attempt to pull her to safety. Lily gave Snape a swift bite on the hand before turning her attention back to Bellatrix, grabbing ahold of her hair and kneeing the  in the stomach.

"I never liked you at school," said Lily, watching Bellatrix fall over.

Before Bellatrix could retort, Avery had pushed Lily down.

Sirius and Mulciber were still wrestling on the ground, punching each other whenever they had the opportunity. Then Sirius got a rather large upper hand, holding Mulciber down and pulling out his penknife.

Fear filled Mulciber with enough adrenaline to throw Sirius off of him and grab the knife for himself.

Though he tried to tackle him, Sirius prevented Mulciber from getting to his feet. Once Mulciber was upright he gave Sirius a swift kick in the face, knocking him unconscious.

 Free of Sirius, Mulciber frantically searched the field for someone, anyone, to hurt. Then he saw James, winning a rather unfairly matched fight with Eric Knott.

"Oi, Potter!" cried Mulciber.

This distracted James for the few moments it took Knott to run away (although it should be noted that this was not Mulciber’s intention).

"Alright, Mulciber?" replied James pleasantly as the two boys moved towards each other, "I was hoping to run into you actually."

"Were you now?"

"Yeah, I wanted to ask you something."

"What was that?"

They were inches apart.

"Yeah," said James. "I wanted to know if you were born this ugly or if puberty was just particularly unkind to you."

Without hesitation, Mulciber took Sirius’ penknife and swiftly drove it into James’ gut.

 

 


	26. Pulling a Juliet

**Chapter Twenty Six: Pulling a Juliet**

Sirius awoke to a bloody nose. Slightly dizzy and incredibly nauseous, he forced himself to stand and look around for Mulciber.

Just as his search began, the Richie in question sped past from behind him, almost knocking him on his face.

"Run!" cried Mulciber.

A few of his fellows lifted their heads to see what the fuss was all about. Then their gaze fell just over Sirius’ shoulder and they too began to run.

"What’s going on?" demanded Sirius, using his sleeve to wipe the remaining blood from his face and  turning to find a small crowd gathering around a fallen figure.

Others were joining now, liberated from their fight, free to join the panicking throng.

Sirius did not stay still for long, shouting as he ran, "What’s wrong? What’s happened?"

Before anyone could answer, Fabian silenced everyone with a single yell of, "Quiet!" then, in a quieter yet equally tense voice he said, "Give him some space. That means you, Lily."

The crowd parted and Sirius glimpsed the scene that had drawn so much attention: James Potter, pale and bleeding from somewhere around his stomach, one hand weakly attempting to stem the flow, the other in Lily’s clutch.

"Is he okay?" cried Sirius, rushing to James’ side.

"I said give him space," scolded Fabian. "Hest, help me get him to the car."

"Sirius," said Remus, standing at a reasonable distance yet not taking his eyes off of James, "Listen to Fabian."

Sirius ignored both Fabian and Remus, instead asking, "How did this happen?"

"I said get away!" snapped Fabian, any patience lost. Then, looking at Lily he said softly, "Lily, let go, I’ve gotta get him some help."

Lily nodded slowly, releasing James’ hand. James let out a small noise just as she did so but did not protest (not that he was in any position to do so).

As Sirius stepped back, allowing Fabian and Hestia to pass, James’ weight supported between them, he saw a familiar knife in the grass, shining with blood.

* * *

 

Hestia returned some five minutes later and told everyone that it was time to go home. There were several murmurs of agreement and the field was vacant not long after that. Lily had not waited that long before setting off towards the hills.

Remus, eyes widened, wandered over to Sirius who was standing firmly in place a clenched jaw and a dangerous look in his eye. The others walked past the two boys, in too much of a daze to register the conversation.

“You alright?” asked Remus, glancing at a small patch of dried blood on Sirius’ upper lip.

“It was Pete,” replied Sirius darkly.

“What do you mean?”

“Peter sold us out. His mum’s not sick; he just needed an excuse so he could warn those tossers.”

Sirius said the word ‘tossers’ with such violent fervour that it startled a nearby Alice Podmore, who was helping an injured Frank out of the field, to the point that she almost dropped him.

Remus nodded slowly, considering how best to combat the madness that had resulted from Sirius’ obvious concussion. There was no way Peter Pettigrew, chubby, friendly, useless Peter, was a rat.

“What makes you think it was Peter?” said Remus carefully.

Before he could answer Sirius vomited on the grass. Then, after much spitting and coughing, he said, “Regulus warned me. He told me Peter was working for the Richies, but I didn’t believe him. ”

“Why would Regulus tell you that, Sirius? Are you sure he’s not trying to frame Pete? Make us turn against each other?”

“Boys,” called Hestia from the gate.

That was when they realised everyone else had already disappeared home.

“Think about it, Remus,” said Sirius, ignoring Hestia’s glare. “How did they get the tickets for the disco? How come they started breaking windows after Peter made that huge fuss with the candles? And how could they have known we were here?”

Hestia let out a pointed cough.

Remus jerked his head in the direction of the village, indicating that he and Sirius should continue this conversation as they walked.

“Fine, let’s go,” said Sirius. “But only if we’re going to kill Pettigrew. Then we can take my bike to the hospital and see if James is still alive.”

“I’m not letting you get on a motorbike. You clearly have a concussion.”

“Just the beating then.”

“Are you sure about this, Sirius?” inquired Remus, giving Hestia a small apologetic smile as they passed her.

“We always knew someone was a traitor. We just didn’t want to start pointing fingers or put a stop to all that fuzzy group love business.”

With a deep breath, Remus said, “This might be insane of me, but you’re actually making sense.”

“Too right,” spat Sirius.

“You want to know something funny? I thought that if anyone was gonna be a traitor, it would’ve been you.”

Sirius laughed coldly before replying, “Funny, I thought the same thing about you.”

* * *

 

The three minutes between the ringing of the doorbell and the opening of the door introduced Lily’s head to a new, unbearable kind of pounding.

At the sound of the doorbell, Mr. Potter sighed, placing his crime novel on his bedside table before he untucked himself from the bed, put on his silk dressing gown, popped on his slippers and made his way downstairs to see who on earth would call at such an hour.

When he saw his son’s girlfriend standing on his doorstop, pale (well, paler than usual) and panicked, James noticeably absent and a bruise beginning to show on her right eye, Mr. Potter started to worry.

“Lily, are you alright?” he asked, unsure if she wanted to be invited in or not. “Where’s James?”

“The hospital,” replied Lily in a small voice. “I don’t know if he’s okay.”

In just thirty seconds, Mr. Potter had vanished and reappeared at the door with his car keys in hand.

“Thank you, Lily. Now get yourself home.”

“Okay,” replied Lily, not making eye contact, knowing this meant she was not invited to join him.

 She made her way down the driveway and turned left, step after step feeling heavier and heavier. Then, the car drove past her, speeding out of sight, and the adrenalin that had carried her to the Potter’s doorstep reached its inevitable end. Feeling as though she might pass out, Lily steadied herself on a nearby fence, squeezing her eyes shut in a vain attempt to clear her head.

Just as she had decided to put all her energy into regaining her composure so that she might be able to reach her home before morning, she heard the unmistakable sound of Sirius’ voice, crying out somewhere down the street.

* * *

 

Remus had suggested that he and Sirius politely ask Mrs. Pettigrew if they could talk to her son. Sirius had agreed to this on the walk up but had either forgotten or chosen to ignore the plan because as soon as he spotted Peter’s house, he began to yell, at the top of his voice, “Oi Pettigrew! Come out you cowardly piece of shit!”

“Sirius, are you trying to get the attention of the entire street,” scolded Remus. “I’d rather just deal with Peter than try and take on every Richie in town again.”

“Like they’d stick their necks out for Pettigrew,” said Sirius before crying out Peter’s name once more.

Deciding that there was nothing for it but to submit to the madness, Remus joined his friend in jeering the word, “Pettigrew” as though it were a terrible insult.

A figure came running at them out of the shadows, making them both jump a little. Sirius saw Remus tense beside him, but was far too worked up to care, almost hoping for another fight.

“Lily?” said Remus, recognising her face as she drew closer.

“What are you doing here?” asked Sirius.

Lily’s eyes were wild and red. Neither boy had ever seen one person look so exhausted and yet so infuriated at the same time.

“I came to tell James’ dad that his son might be dead,” snapped Lily. “But clearly you thought your top priority should be to harass Peter.”

“James isn’t going to die,” retorted Sirius. “But Pettigrew is.”

“It’s his fault James got hurt,” added Remus as way of explanation.

“Why? Because he didn’t show up tonight?” said Lily.

“Because he’s the one that told the Richies what we were up to,” replied Sirius.

Before Lily could express her disbelief, the Pettigrew’s front door opened to reveal a furious looking Mrs. Pettigrew.

“What on earth do you three think you’re doing,” she cried, storming down her front lawn. “If you don’t stop screaming obscenities at my family, I’ll call the police.”

“Time to go,” muttered Lily, dragging Sirius by wrist, trusting Remus to follow.

Sirius allowed himself to be guided, displeased but aware that he would not be able to justify entering a physical confrontation with Peter’s mum.

* * *

 

Lily was welcomed home by a furious Petunia.

“Where on earth have you been? Is that a black eye?” she cried, following Lily from the front door to the kitchen.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” said Lily, putting the kettle on, “Has anyone rung for me?”

Petunia spluttered, “You disappear the night before my wedding, come back in the middle of the night with your face a mess, and you ask me if you’ve had any phone calls?”

Lily turned to face her sister, trying not to cry as she did so.

“Look, I’m here aren’t I? I’ll be in your stupid wedding,” she snapped.

The two sisters stared at each other in terrible silence, practically daring the other to say another word.

Then, the sound of a flushing toilet, followed by their mother rushing from the bathroom asking, “Is that Lily?”

“Yeah, it’s me mum,” called Lily in response.

Jill Evans let out a sigh of relief as she burst into the kitchen and saw her youngest daughter in one piece, albeit with a rather obvious black eye.

“Now,” began Jill, her voice tired but stern, “Do you have any idea how much trouble you’re in?”

* * *

 

Lily was not allowed to retire to bed until she had recounted the tale of her evening. So, she did as she was told, joining her mother and sister at the kitchen table.

Once Lily had finished, Petunia, in a cool voice, said, “I don’t think you should be a bridesmaid anymore.”

“Why? Because I got home a bit late,” sneered Lily.

“Because you don’t even care enough about my wedding to avoid getting into one of your stupid gang fights for one night.”

“Gang fight?” cried Lily. “Are you serious?”

Petunia stiffened, sitting as straight as possible for a person to sit, with all their bumps and lumps.

Lily rolled her eyes and said, “Fine. I didn’t want to wear that godawful dress anyway.”

“That’s enough!” snapped Jill.

Both Petunia and Lily flinched.

“Now,” she continued, “It’s bad enough your father won’t be there tomorrow. I won’t have you two fighting.”

“It’s my wedding,” cried Petunia, incredulously.

“Well, if you’re old enough to be a wife, you’re old enough to forgive your sister. At least for now,” said Jill. “Now are you going to keep arguing or am I going to have to send you to the naughty step the night before your wedding.”

Lily smirked.

Jill rounded on her, “I don’t know what you’re so smug about. You won’t be leaving the house for a month after tomorrow. It’s sixth-form, church, or home. Now go to bed, both of you.”

* * *

 

After an hour of squeezing her eyes shut, trying desperately to fall asleep, Lily admitted defeat. It was, after all, rather difficult to relax when your mind kept running through different scenarios in which she would be informed of James’ death.

As quietly as possible, for fear of waking Petunia, Lily clambered out of bed and tiptoed towards her mother’s room.

The door creaked as she pushed it open, causing her to wince, but no one to stir. Pressing on, Lily entered the bedroom and allowed the door to creak closed behind her.

“Mum,” she whispered.

Jill Evans rolled over but did not wake.

“Mum,” repeated Lily, her voice slightly louder.

“What is it, darling?” replied her mum in a sleepy, confused voice.

“I know you’re upset with me, but I can’t sleep.”

Jill lifted the covers, indicating Lily should join her. With a small smile, Lily got into the bed and made herself comfortable.

“Do you remember what I used to tell you when you were younger,” said Jill in a whisper.

“When I couldn’t sleep?”

“Yes.”

“To tell myself a story in my head. But I can’t think about anything pleasant. I’m just worried about James,” then, after a moment’s thought, Lily added, “And I’m worried Petunia’ll never speak to me again.”

“She will, dear, she will,” said Jill, giving Lily a reassuring pat on the arm. “Now think about something nice.”

“Like what?”

“The zoo.”

* * *

 

The next day Petunia was far too busy worrying about the wedding to take the time to scold Lily. Not to mention that they had left for Surrey at seven that morning, meaning that almost the entire day would be spent in the presence of friends and relations. Petunia, no matter how much rage consumed her, was never one to lose composure in public.

Lily did her best to play the part of devoted sister, even going so far as to try and hide the fact that her bridesmaid’s dress was giving her chest a rather painful rash.

If James had been there, as he was supposed to have been, she could have complained to him. But if James was there to listen to her complain about her rash he would also be uninjured and able to keep her entertained with terrible jokes and bad dancing.

The day passed slowly, not simply because Lily was desperate for the following morning when she would finally be able to return to Sowsworth and discover the fate of her boyfriend, but also because Vernon Dursley’s family were as awful as they were boring.

One of Vernon’s cousins, a fourteen year old boy named Martin, kept giving her the eye, undeterred by her hideous dress. Thinking it was safe to slip away; Lily wandered across the dance floor to the boy and, with her sweetest smile, asked if he had any change.

Martin nodded fervently, producing twenty pence from his pocket.

“Thank you,” said Lily, taking the coin and rushing out of the building, searching for the nearest payphone.

The wedding was being held in a quasi-expensive hotel at the top of a country road, but Lily had seen, on the drive there, that there was a high street not too far away.

Picking up the hem of her dress, Lily ran for some ten minutes before she saw signs of civilisation.

“Excuse me,” she asked the first woman she saw. The woman looked taken aback at the horrendous clash of ginger and pink, but Lily, unperturbed, continued, “Do you know where the nearest payphone is?”

“There’s one outside that pub,” answered the woman, gesturing over her shoulder. “Keep walking and you can’t miss it.”

Lily thanked the woman before setting off again.

When she finally reached the payphone, the twenty pence piece growing sweaty in her tight grip, Lily realised she had no idea who to call.

Mr. Potter? It was unlikely he would be home and not at the hospital. Fabian wouldn’t have been allowed to stay long enough to know how James was doing. Sirius or Remus might have heard something but she couldn’t remember calling Remus before.

She tried to recall Angie’s phone number, but James had lived there so long ago that she wasn’t certain she actually knew it anymore.

Lily was getting frantic and so decided she would simply have to call Mary or Dorcas and hope they knew what was going on.

Without further ado, Lily dialled Dorcas’ number and waited.

Mrs. Meadowes answered.

“Hi, is Dorcas there?” asked Lily.

“I’m sorry,” replied Mrs. Meadowes. “She’s gone to her friend Maureen’s house.”

“Oh, okay,” said Lily, trying not to sound as disappointed as she truly was. “Thank you.”

* * *

 

Despite her exhaustion, Lily barely slept that night either.

By the time she and her mother arrived in Sowsworth on the Sunday, after seeing Petunia off on her honeymoon, every inch of Lily’s body was pleading for a nap.

As soon as the car pulled into the drive, however, Lily practically threw herself out of the car.

“Lily,” called Jill.

Supressing a sigh, Lily stuck her back into the car.

“Yeah, mum?”

“You can go find out how James is. But after that you come straight home.”

Lily gave a quick nod to show she understood before heading straight to Angie’s.

Before Angie could even say hello, Lily blurted, “Do you know anything about James?”

“Yes, Lily,” said Angie kindly. “He’s fine.”

“Fine? Completely fine?”

“Well they’ve got to keep him in the hospital for a while, but he’ll survive.”

“Have you seen him?” asked Lily.

“Yes, I went with Sirius yesterday.”

“How is he?”

“Already bored of the hospital. Asked if I’d sneak him out.”

Lily laughed breathily, embarrassed that, in light of her overwhelming relief, it was quite likely she would break down in tears on Angie’s doorstep.

* * *

 

Although Jill Evans had been completely serious when she had sentenced her daughter to a month’s long house arrest, she was not heartless.

So, after dinner, she said, “Tomorrow, when I finish work, I’m going to the hospital to visit dad. Do you wanna come?”

Lily almost dropped the plate she’d been washing.

* * *

 

James was suspiciously sniffing a bread roll when Lily entered his ward. He didn’t notice her at first, too caught up in investigating his dinner.

“Hi,” greeted Lily.

James flinched, crushing the bread roll in his fist and pulling it back as though he were ready to use it as a weapon.

“Lily!” he exclaimed, tossing the roll onto the floor and attempting to get out of the bed. “Your eye looks awful. Are you alright?”

“Oh my God, what are you doing?” she cried, throwing herself forwards and pulling James’ sheets back over him. “Don’t get up. Also you’re attached to about a million tubes.”

“Ugh, you sound like the nurses,” complained James.

“Nice to see you too.”

James grinned as Lily glanced around for a chair. James patted the tiny patch of bed beside his bum that was free and, after a moment’s consideration, Lily took up his offer and sat down.

“This feels inappropriate,” said Lily, resting her head on James’ shoulder, careful not to brush against his stomach, as they leaned back on his mountain of pillows.

An old man in the bed opposite threw them a dirty look.

“Yeah, we’ll probably get told off,” said James. “But what’s the worst they can do? Stab me?”

Lily lifted her head to give James an unimpressed expression.

“Too soon?” he asked.

“Give it another day at least.”

“It’s been three days already. I feel like that’s enough time.”

“Hey,” she said, cuddling up to him once more. “I only found out you weren’t dead yesterday.”

“You thought I was dead?”

“I didn’t know if you were or weren’t.”

“Were you worried?”

“Of course,” said Lily.

“Did you consider pulling a Juliet and offing yourself?” he teased. “Because if not then I don’t think you really love me.”

“Do you wanna get stabbed again?”

“Hey guess what my Doctor’s called.”

“Tom?”

“No even better.”

“Than Tom?” laughed Lily.

“Yes, now be quiet and get ready to hear the greatest Doctor name you’ll ever hear.”

“I’m ready.”

“My Doctor’s name is Edgar Bones.”

“No!” cried Lily.

“Yes!”

“Doctor Bones?”

“Doctor Bones,” confirmed James. “I personally think it was almost worth being hospitalised just so I could hear that name.”

Their laughter was interrupted by an incredibly disgruntled nurse who began a rather long lecture on why nobody should be sitting on James’ bed just now.

* * *

 

Sirius had managed to convince Remus to get on his motorbike later that week. Remus was still incredibly wary of Sirius’ skills as a driver, but was far too excited about the prospect of seeing James to care all that much.

The visit was, to James’ dismay, largely dedicated to discussing revenge on Peter.

The two boys had immediately, after dragging two chairs from across the room and placing them by James’ bed, brought up Peter.

“Can’t we talk about something else? What have I missed on Top of the Pops this week?” said James, his voice weary, still adjusting to the idea of Peter as a traitor.

“James, that little shit is the reason you’re in a hospital bed,” replied Sirius before adding, “And me. It’s my fault too.”

James scoffed, “I’m pretty sure that Mulciber’s the one who stabbed me in the gut.”

“With my knife,” said Sirius firmly.

“But you didn’t intend for James to get hurt,” reasoned Remus.

“That doesn’t matter,” spat Sirius.

“You know, we could do this all day,” said James. “I mean really if we’re following that line of argument then it’s Fabian’s fault for getting on that roof.”

“James,” began Sirius.

“Who wants to play cards?” asked James, cutting Sirius off before he could continue.

“James,” said Remus calmly. “Peter needs to pay for what he’s done. If you thought about him as a traitor rather than a friend, you’d see that.”

“Actually, Remus,” countered James. “Since getting stabbed, I have decided to become a pacifist.”

“A pacifist?” said Remus, his disbelief clear.

“What would you do if Snivellus really pissed you off?” demanded Sirius. “Just give him a flower and a pat on the back?”

“Well, to begin with, the flower seems a bit overboard,” said James. “And secondly Snape doesn’t count. He’s not even human, technically.”

“Alright, what about Mulciber? What if he ever starts something on you again?” said Sirius.

“Well, I would kill him,” answered James.

“Okay, so you’re just a pacifist when it comes to Pettigrew,” said Remus.

“Pretty much. Now can we just drop this?”

Sirius and Remus did not argue so James started to shuffle his pack of cards.

“Oh, by the way,” said James, as though he were about to discuss the weather, “Mulciber’s not being charged with anything. Apparently it was just a ‘fight between boys’ and not attempted murder.”

“Are you having a laugh?” said Sirius. "It's not like the Prewetts losing their farm wasn't bad enough."

"I stand by that I would have been fine if Fabian had gotten back up on that roof and just let me bleed it out," said James. “Now, do we want to play Gin or Rummy?”

“They’re the same game,” answered Remus.

* * *

 

Lily was allowed to visit James a couple more times over the next three weeks, but her mother put her foot down when it came to allowing her to attend the party being thrown at the pub, celebrating his release from hospital.

“Mum, he’s my boyfriend. I should really be there,” persisted Lily, knowing she was fighting a losing battle.

“Like you should have been here the night before Petunia’s wedding?” replied Jill, not cruelly, but pointedly.

Lily did consider, later, when alone in her room, climbing out her bedroom window. This plan was quickly dismissed as ridiculous and possible deadly, so, in a huff, Lily went downstairs and sat with her mum, watching telly.

* * *

 

Excluding Lily Evans, all of James’ friends and acquaintances had gathered in The Griffin that night. 

Alice had even slipped him a pint of lager with a wink and a, “Down it now before anyone sees and comes begging for their own.” 

James did as he was told, feeling, the entire time, the odd sensation that Maureen Baddock was staring at him.

When he sat down beside Sirius and Remus, Sirius asked, “So, any thoughts on how we should get back at Pettigrew?”

 “Well, he didn’t get invited to this snazzy party,” said James dismissively.

Sirius and Remus shared a look but dropped the subject.

“Oh, God,” cried James, bowing his head as though to hide his face.

“What is it?” asked Remus.

“Fabian’s looking this way. He keeps trying to apologise to me. It’s getting pretty tedious,” said James. “Let’s pretend like we’re having a really serious, private conversation.”

A few minutes later, Regulus entered. A few people looked up from their conversations, but no one other than Sirius greeted him.

Regulus stood by the door, making himself as small as possible, as Sirius came over.

“Didn’t know if you’d come,” said Sirius with a grin. “Glad you did though.”

“I’m not sure I should stay,” replied Regulus, glancing around awkwardly, “I’m pretty sure everyone here hates me.”

“Nah,” said Sirius. “You’re just being neurotic. Go sit with Dorcas.”

“Why?” asked Regulus.

“Because she doesn’t discriminate; she’ll talk anyone’s ear off.”

* * *

 

The regulars, mostly middle-aged to elderly men, did not look overly amused when it reached ten o’clock and their pub was still overrun with teenagers.

One such teenager, however, had made his way over to a lonely regular and struck up a conversation, forgoing interaction with his own classmates.

Frank had been too caught up in Alice to notice that Benjy had joined an old man at the bar to talk about Coronation Street until half ten.

“Excuse me,” said Frank pleasantly, standing between Benjy and the old man, interrupting Benjy’s rant about the Janet Barlow storyline. “Could I borrow my friend for moment,” he asked of the man, who didn’t seem too upset to be rid of Benjy.

Taking Benjy to a quiet corner, Frank said, “Are you alright?”

 “I’m fine, why?”

“You’re out with all your friends and you’re talking to an old man about Corrie. Now unless you suddenly have a thing for really old men, there must be something going on.”

Benjy sighed, “I don’t know. I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Is it Kenneth?”

“Why would it be Kenneth?”

Frank shrugged.

“Are you not still into Kenneth?” he asked.

“Not really. I’m pretty sure he’s going out with Kathy Jones now,” said Benjy casually.

“Really? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I don’t know. I guess I just didn’t get the chance.”

“What do you mean? I see you every day.”

“Yeah, at school,” said Benjy, “But I don’t really want to talk about this stuff there. After school you’re always with Alice.”

“Oh.”

“Look you’re really making this out to be something bigger than it actually is.”

“Fine,” conceded Frank. “Do you want to get back to your conversation with the old man or do you want to come with me and get Dorcas and Mary to argue something?”

Benjy grinned and said, “Definitely the Dorcas and Mary one. That is, if we can get Dorcas away from Maureen.”

“Yeah, why are they suddenly best friends now?”

Benjy stifled a laugh but did not bother to correct Frank’s assumption, not thinking it his place.

* * *

 

After his second secret pint, James slammed his hand down on the table. Mary, beside him, jumped in her seat a little.

“Ladies and gentleman,” James called out to those around him. “Tonight has been fantastic except for one thing.”

“No Lily?” asked Dorcas.

“No alcohol?” suggested Maureen, giving Alice a pointed look.

“No disco music?” said Mary with a small laugh.

Sirius shot her a mock-glare as James said, “Yes, Dorcas. So, what I’m gonna do is go see her for a little bit.”

“But she’s not allowed to leave the house,” voiced Kenneth.

“Kenny, I’m not asking for negativity. I’m just letting everyone know that I’m gonna go find my girlfriend.”

“See you tomorrow then,” said Remus.

James got to his feet and squeezed himself past Mary, Kenneth, Benjy, and Hestia.

“You don’t think he’ll be coming back?” asked Maureen once James had exited the pub.

“Not a chance,” said Sirius.

* * *

 

James considered throwing rocks at Lily’s bedroom window, but thought that might result in broken glass and an even angrier Jill Evans.

Instead, James decided to do a loud impression of a Cockrill.

A second later, the front door opened and Jill Evans stuck her head out, looking around for the source of the noise.

“James?” she asked. “Did you make that sound?”

Wandering over, James replied, “Hi, I thought that would be more discreet.”

“Were you looking for Lily? You know she’s not allowed out.”

James heard Lily call from inside, “Mum, is that James?”

“Hi,” cried James in reply.

Jill gave him a disapproving look.

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly. “I just wanted to say hi.”

“Well, you’ve said it now,” said Jill just as Lily appeared at her shoulder.

“James!” exclaimed Lily, pushing past her mother and throwing her arms around him.

“Hello,” said James, pulling her as close as possible without touching stomachs. “I should probably go before your mum kills me.”

Lily, letting go of James, turned to shoot her mum a sad look.

“James,” sighed Jill. “Would you like to come in for a cup of tea?”

 


End file.
